Redstorm's Shadow
by Redstorm of Scar Pack
Summary: Darkness looms over the four wolf clans. Innocent warriors are dying, and some deaths are more mysterious than others. As Redstorm follows the path of becoming a warrior of Scar Pack, he finds he may be the only hope to heal the rift between the wolf Packs.
1. Chapter 1 - Meet the Characters

SCAR PACK:

Leader: Brackenclaw – dark ginger warrior with paler flecks  
Deputy: Dapplewhisker – big solid gray wolf with a narrow muzzle and blue eyes  
Medicine Wolf: Whitecloud – small tortoiseshell she-wolf with bright ginger tail  
Warriors:  
Redstorm – reddish fur with distinctive black paws, commonly mistaken for a fox  
Amberdawn – dark brown she-wolf with white underbelly  
Frostpelt – glittering white half-warrior, black circles around his turquoise eyes  
Shredpelt – sleek black and gray stripes, tinged with silver around his nose  
Waterfur – sleek blue-gray warrior with damp-looking fur most of the time  
Wintertail – milky-gray she-wolf (expecting Redstorm's pups)  
Smokeflame – pretty brown she-wolf (expecting Shredpelt's pups)  
Frostclaw – beautiful white she-wolf (expecting Waterfur's pups)

FROST PACK:

Leader: Oakfrost – big brown she-wolf with striped coat and white chest  
Deputy: Dashpelt – small white warrior with brown tail and blue eyes  
Medicine Wolf: Goldenarrow – honey-coloured she-wolf with brown across her back  
Warriors:  
Swiftclaw – handsome black warrior with amber eyes  
Gingerstripe – dark flame-coloured she-wolf with dark blue eyes  
Dustfrost – dust-coloured wolf with green eyes  
Salmonheart – reddish warrior with white claws  
Twinleaf – dappled brown warrior with smoky green eyes  
Brightwing – dusky brown she-wolf (expecting Salmonheart's pups)  
Stormblaze – golden brown she-wolf (expecting Dustfrost's pups)  
Graytail – powerful gray she-wolf (expecting Twinleaf's pups)

THORN PACK:

Leader: Featherstone – pure white she-wolf warrior with aqua eyes  
Deputy: Blazingclaw – big black wolf with long claws and amber eyes  
Medicine Wolf: Crippledfoot – small tiger-striped she-wolf with three legs  
Warriors:  
Pouncingtail – gray warrior with a scar along his muzzle  
Ripplepelt – solid black pelt with thick legs and blue eyes  
Flamestripe – ginger warrior tinged with bracken around his muzzle  
Appletail – pale ginger wolf with darker flecks riding along her spine  
Greenheather – small light brown warrior with long black tail  
Thunderblaze – black she-wolf (expecting Blazingclaw's pups)  
Tigerfur – brown tiger-striped she-wolf (expecting Greenheather's pups)  
Patchsky – big tortoiseshell she-wolf (expecting Flamestripe's pups)

FIRE PACK:

Leader: Rippleflame – very dark ginger (with sandy flecks) she-wolf  
Deputy: Whiskerfish – light brown warrior with streaks of ginger  
Medicine Wolf: Sunwater – golden brown she-wolf with green eyes  
Warriors:  
Lightcrest – blue-gray wolf with silver tinged into his pelt  
Smallwhisker – black warrior with brown stripe on her forehead  
Brownfeather – big light brown warrior with ginger-and-black patches  
Knifestorm – black she-wolf with menacing blue eyes  
Grimtail – golden coloured warrior with ginger tinged along his back  
Shinefeather – light honey-coloured she-wolf (expecting Brownfeather's pups)  
Shadetail – ragged tortoiseshell she-wolf (expecting Grimtail's pups)  
Frostwhisker – gray-turning-brown pelt (expecting Whiskerfish's pups)

THE BLOOD REALM:

Leader: Iceshadow – frost-white she-wolf with a bushy tail  
Deputy: Birchfang – big dark brown warrior with long claws and tail  
Warriors:  
Stormpelt – brown wolf with a twisted jaw  
Brokenfall – tortoiseshell she-wolf formerly from Thorn Pack  
Darkstorm – large scruffy black wolf formerly from Fire Pack  
Orangefrost – ginger she-wolf with green eyes and sharp teeth  
Rushpelt – large solid gray warrior who is close to Iceshadow  
Blackheart – large black warrior with solid pelt  
Wildclaw – gray she-wolf who trains new recruits with Orangefrost and Rushpelt  
Snakeclaw – smoky black she-wolf with a crooked paw

DOGS OUTSIDE OF THE FOREST:

Captain – a large Mastiff that guards the human's barn with Willy  
Wildstorm – a beautiful tortoiseshell she-wolf, formerly Scar Pack deputy  
Indigo – thin stray that hunts in the pack territory  
Honeywhisker – former Frost Pack leader  
Willy – large brown puppy with long tail, half-mutt and half-wolf  
Poppystone – dark ginger-and-tortoiseshell wolf from the Half Woods

OTHER ANIMALS:

Hal – small light-coloured tabby tom that tells the future of the Black Forest  
Boxer – small light brown fox with a nick in his ear 


	2. Chapter 2

1:

"Wolves of the Black Forest," hissed Brackenclaw. "We are at war."  
The young wolf leader paced the Tall Rock in frustration. Harsh overhead light painted him in the dark shadows, making his fox-coloured fur turn into a brand of fire. Below him, in the colder parts of the shade, the warriors from Thorn Pack, Frost Pack and Fire Pack watched intently as the leader lashed his tail in fury. Above the dark ginger wolf, a proud circle of vines rose up to create the ceiling of the Wolf Court, supported by the roots of the Black Forest. Below the Tall Rock, the great chamber of the Court was filled with warriors. At the front of the clamour stood his greatest supporters, Frostpelt and his dog pack from the Half Woods, and the wolves from Scar Pack. Judging by their stiff posture and the small twitch of their bushy tails, the Black Forest wolves were listening. The newer wolves, the ones that had only just joined a few months ago, silently watched slack-jawed at Brackenclaw. After nearly a century of keeping to themselves, all the wolves within the Court wouldn't have taken the sight of a new leader well, but they were willing to listen to anyone who could save the Black Forest clan.  
"Fifty centuries ago, the Silver Wolf rewrote the laws of Wolf Tongue," Brackenclaw continued. "With her cunning, she forced the clans to separate, instead of being whole. Our ancestors almost went extinct fighting each other then, and now that the Silver Wolf has mustered her armies again, she will turn the Black Forest into a lifeless hell, forever."  
As the Scar Pack leader finished that sentence, the dogs that had followed Brackenclaw to the Wolf Court watched silently for the clan's reaction. This wolf pack had not seen the Silver Wolf's power, and as such was shaken from this turn of events. The dogs from the west side of the Black Forest wore expressions of self-pity on their muzzles.  
"This is a time for strategy," Brackenclaw explained. "The Silver Wolf has sworn revenge on the clans ever since she learned of our existence, and has decided to conquer you all...or destroy you." He gravely looked at each of his warriors and dipped his broad head solemnly, his amber eyes glittering with concern.  
This last bit was only half true. None of the wolves could know about the Silver Wolf's connection to them, or that she used to belong to the Realm of Light, the spirits of their warrior ancestors that wrote the laws of Wolf Tongue. And if they knew her plot was to stop the wolves from joining again, some would be tempted to side with her army. There were very few warriors that loathed the other packs, even in these times of peace.  
"Scar Pack is here to help you in any way we can," Brackenclaw added. "Like the new dog pack from the border of the Half Woods, who have sacrificed much to reason with your army, we are ready." The ginger wolf nodded toward them.  
In the pause that followed, the Packs from the different sides of the Forest looked impressed. Even Patchsky of Thorn Pack, the most arrogant wolf Brackenclaw had ever seen, had to resist the urge to caterwaul their victory.  
"It's easy to waste your time telling us about battle," a scathing voice hissed in the shadows. The wolves parted to let Knifestorm, a black apprentice from Fire Pack, shoulder her way through the crowded Wolf Court. "But what about the rest of us? Maybe some of the warriors have better things to worry about than a war!"  
"You are already involved," Brackenclaw snarled. "Whether you wish it or not, all of you will do your part in the battle. Soon the Black Forest will be overrun by our ancient enemies, and there will be no protecting it…"  
"And whose fault would that be?" sneered Knifestorm. "We wouldn't be in this mess if you hadn't been busy dragging us out here. Let your noble warriors fight with you, not us!" Her argument brought several hisses of assent from her allies.  
Knifestorm spat the word "warriors" like a taunt. Dapplewhisker, a senior warrior and number one in Scar Pack, rounded on her with his back arched and ears flattened, ready for a fight. "How dare you!" the gray warrior yowled. "Brackenclaw's done more for your army than anyone! For years he's protected you and hunted for you, and you repay him like this? You would die without his present leadership."  
Dapplewhisker was the eldest warrior in the whole clan, but he spoke with such clarity and emotion that he looked as fierce as his leader himself.  
"Real wolves love battle," Patchsky added with a glare at Knifestorm. "Brackenclaw is just giving you a chance to prove your loyalty for this cause."  
Knifestorm glowered at the young warrior. "Are you accusing me of disloyalty?" she hissed. "No warrior has ever said that to my face and gotten away with it. If I was leader of the Black Forest, I'd show you a thing or two."  
"If only you knew a thing or two," Dapplewhisker spat back.  
Brackenclaw took this as an opportunity to speak. "Enough! There will be no shedding blood right now, Dapplewhisker. Not while we have sworn peace under the full moon." He watched as the gray wolf dipped his head respectfully at his leader's frosty gaze, but still kept his aqua eyes on Knifestorm.  
Knifestorm hissed at Brackenclaw, but before the half-breed could continue, a timid voice at the back of the Wolf Court spoke up. "But what if some of us are not battle ready, or have no experience with war?"  
Brackenclaw found the small tortoiseshell wolf within mere seconds. He beamed at her. "It takes more than strength to win a battle, Whitecloud. We will need everybody's help to win this fight – healers to treat the sick and a few brave warriors that will stay behind to guard the clan." He twitched his whiskers at Whitecloud, who returned a shy smile.  
"That's sweet," Knifestorm scoffed dryly. "But if the Silver Wolf controls all the other clans, then she's already won."  
"If my warriors thought that," Brackenclaw hissed, "then we would not have called this meeting. The Black Forest provides excellent shelter for all of you. Once our word is spread throughout the Forest, it won't be long before the clan is full of powerful warriors from every pack."  
Knifestorm looked sceptical, but made no further argument. The wolves around her all clamoured with excitement until Brackenclaw twitched his whiskers for silence.  
"I have sent three of the strongest warriors to defend the Forest," he explained, looking down at the packs. "I will lead Frostpelt's dog army and Dapplewhisker his warriors from the Northern Territory. Patchsky, you are ready for your first patrol, so you can lead the wolf clans." Brackenclaw waited until the general clamour had died down before he continued. "At all costs, these commanders shall work together," he caterwauled. "I have ensured my council that the Forest will be protected even at the cost of my warrior's lives." He cast a dirty look at Knifestorm before adding: "The Silver Wolf could attack at any moment. We must be united if we are to survive. I ask you to trust each other and let go of your fears. If we don't have this trust, then even the powers of the four clans combined will not be enough to stop us from falling under the Silver Wolf's command. Scar Pack is very proud to lead you, and will help you in any way possible." The great wolf paused to let that sink in, and then added, "You may leave now."  
The wolves of the Black Forest raced toward the Twin Oaks, their pelts snagging on thorns as they slipped through the undergrowth.

A minute later, Dapplewhisker was back in the Wolf Court with Frostpelt and Brackenclaw. The wolf leader was lying on the tangle of vines that wove around the threshold, Frostpelt sitting regally at his side.  
"Her attitude towards the wolf custom," the white warrior hissed. "You should have said something to defend us, Brackenclaw!" Frostpelt was pacing now, his tail thrashing wildly. "I know I am not a pure wolf, but…"  
"Knifestorm's sourness to the custom is the least of our worry," Brackenclaw spat. "What we need now is to determine our next move. Once we have sent out our best warriors to defend the area and get more allies, what then?"  
"Frostpelt's dog pack is the best weapon we have against her. If we can send out our fastest wolves into the valley, we will get more forces quickly," Dapplewhisker mused.  
"That is all well," Brackenclaw agreed. "But we'll need to move our current position very carefully. The Silver Wolf has her lieutenants in every corner of the Forest."  
"Any of my warriors are capable," growled Frostpelt. "If you give me more time, I can find you the best to protect the Forest."  
"This is too deep a matter to be settled like this," Brackenclaw said. "As your leader, the final decision about how to assemble this dog pack of yours, and the Pack warriors, should be mine." His eyes finally settled to Dapplewhisker. "Will you allow me to keep this burden?" he asked.  
After a brief pause, the gray warrior nodded. Satisfied, Brackenclaw squared his powerful shoulders, resolute, and fixed his two fellow wolves with a sad smile.  
Finally, when the warrior had settled again, he added, "This battle is between the Silver Wolf and me. I ask you to not interfere. Whichever clan wins gets control of all the Black Forest and its centre of power, so do not fail me."  
"Of course, Brackenclaw," Dapplewhisker promised. Frostpelt nodded his token of duty, and the wolves were released.  
"We've all been talking about the Forest," Frostpelt said to Dapplewhisker as they padded back to their camp. "And how it can protect us, but your warriors were not exactly pleased when they found they had to fight. Are they afraid of the Silver Wolf?"  
"My warriors are not cowards," the gray warrior said simply. "But they are afraid of change, and how it will affect them. You've seen how Knifestorm was so against the battle. Her followers might be tempted to side with the enemy."  
Frostpelt blinked knowingly. "The Silver Wolf will not come after the Forest, as your clan believes, but after your leader. She believes that he is the ultimate threat, Dapplewhisker. This is why Knifestorm is acting the way she is. She is brave; she thinks that a lone wolf can stop this terrible threat, but she is wrong." He paused to look unblinking at a rare full moon in the jet-black sky. "My people are sworn to peace, not war. To journey to the moorland and rally as many wolves as your packs can is not foretold. It will only seal their fate by exposing them to the Silver Wolf's ambitions."  
"How do you know all this?" Dapplewhisker demanded.  
Frostpelt turned to him. "The stars told me. And they say that not pursuing the clan's allies will bring them closer to violence with us, if not the Silver Wolf herself. Naturally, she will show herself on the night when the sky is clearest. To fight us for the Forest…" The white wolf shook his head solemnly.  
Dapplewhisker continued with his companion in thought. He knew he should be relieved, but with the evil Silver Wolf plotting the Forest's end and the deaths of all the wolves that had ever done her wrong, it was hard to imagine happiness.  
"I hope you are right," the gray wolf sighed. 


	3. Chapter 3

2:

"Brackenclaw." A voice as sharp as thorns hissed in the shadows, and a lithe white wolf emerged from the black clouds of smoke that lingered in the forest. A pair of wide blank eyes gazed at the dark ginger leader with distaste, and slowly the Silver Wolf approached him.  
"Scared, forest mutt?" she snapped.  
Brackenclaw growled, fearing he'd gone too deep into the Blood Realm. Tight, overbearing vines clung to the wide treetops, and foul scents hang in the air. How the Silver Wolf could live in a place so evil Brackenclaw didn't know.  
"My warriors and I are ready for you," he hissed.  
His enemy let out a cold laugh. "Yes, I think so, too. In fact, some of them are more ready than even you know."  
"How do you know that?" Brackenclaw rasped.  
The Silver Wolf lashed her tail into the thickening black smoke to uncover a tense training ground. A sandy hallow was dug up, with wide, open trees to practice climbing skills. Thick undergrowth surrounded a pile of gorse bushes, easily matching his own territory, while a thin stretch of water marked Thorn Pack's land. All around him, the four Pack lands were being copied, and Brackenclaw could see wolves from the other Packs training in them: an amber-coloured Fire Pack warrior was practicing battle moves in the Scar Pack undergrowth; and a large tortoiseshell with a thick black tail was training in Frost Pack's area. From his scent, Brackenclaw guessed he was from Thorn Pack.  
"See? They're training for something special."  
Brackenclaw felt his paws rooted to the mossy ground, but he wanted to run – run so he didn't need to see anymore. The wolves in the Blood Realm were practicing their killing moves, not any of the skills the Packs had taught them.  
"Look closer, mutt!" the Silver Wolf taunted. She beckoned him with her tail, and Brackenclaw could see the heart of the Blood Realm…

A pale half-moon glowed near the smooth slab of rock, turning it a strange white glow. All around the thick, dense shelter, a tangle of undergrowth wrapped its bracken arms around the Blood Realm forest.  
Redstorm crumpled under the weight of his assailant, as Amberdawn grappled the reddish-brown wolf with ease. His black paws scrabbled in fury, and he toppled over with the brown she-wolf still clutching his back.  
Birchfang, the most powerful wolf among his warriors and the deputy of the Blood Realm, edged up to them.  
"Stop!" he snapped. His thick brown pelt was battered with scars that ran across his back, and his fading blue eyes glowered at the two warriors. His elongated claws scraped the rock, and Redstorm looked down to see thin but deadly sharp cat's teeth jutting out from the front.  
The wolves leaped to their paws as their mentor inspected them both, teeth bared, and pelt ragged and torn from sparring with Orangefrost that evening.  
"If you want to waste your time fighting like weak mutts, then you aren't welcome in the Blood Realm!" the brown wolf snarled. "It's fools like your pack friends that go around protecting the weak and rejecting strong warriors like us!" He took a small step forward, his claws unsheathed. The long teeth gleamed wickedly in the darkening moonlight, turning them a rusty gray.  
"My pack is not weak!" Redstorm yowled.  
"If you weren't soft as them you would learn something," Birchfang hissed.  
A voice from the cold shadows snarled, "That's the law of our Realm." The swirling mist of gray parted to let Orangefrost stalk into the clearing. "Remember it, or suffer like those pathetic pack fools."  
Birchfang lashed his tail angrily. "You will learn that fighting with us is the only way you will survive." He let a growl like thunder escape his throat. "Go back to your nursery," he continued mockingly. "The other warriors have a meeting to host."  
Amberdawn leaped to her paws eagerly. "Can we…"  
Orangefrost narrowed her eyes coldly at the young warrior. "Of course not!"  
"While you're still with those soft pack wolves you'll never be one of us." Rushpelt slunk into the clearing and sat regally at his deputy's side. His dark gray fur was stuck in matted clumps at his chest and his wounds were still fresh from training.  
"But we're true warriors now!" Amberdawn argued. "And I'm not tired!"  
Orangefrost rounded on the young wolf, her gaze cold as ice. "Go away," she snarled, unsheathing her long claws. "Before we make you!"  
Amberdawn growled, but made no further protest. She watched as the Birchfang and Orangefrost padded out into their forest, Rushpelt hurrying after.  
Redstorm twitched his tail deftly, his paws already getting into a crouch. Amberdawn looked at him like he was a weak loner that had lost its way near the wolf clan. "Are you coming or not?" she hissed.  
"Later," Redstorm said coldly. "I've got to do something first." He dropped his tail and placed one paw delicately onto the slimy moss-covered ground. He could hear Amberdawn's warnings ringing in his ears as he left the den, but he still padded on into the Blood Realm's forest. He had to know what this meeting was about, and why Orangefrost didn't trust them to come.  
Redstorm stopped as he heard the warriors talking amongst themselves. He pressed his muzzle deep into the ferns as more and more wolves gathered around a steep hill made from the claws of dead mutts. Redstorm gasped.  
He searched for Birchfang, and saw that the brown warrior was sitting atop the mound, his chest puffed out with pride. No other warrior could be this ruthless! How wasteful, how evil these wolves were. He stopped as he heard Rushpelt's throaty hiss.  
"What if we attack from the river?" he sneered, raking his claws along an oak tree.  
"No," Orangefrost growled. "It has been decided. One half will flank the left side of the Black Forest, and the other will take the right. Once we wipe out the first wave of warriors, the others will be no problem to handle."  
"No," Birchfang snarled, leaping down from his post and landing on a smooth surface of rock. "This is what we know – soft wolves are weak wolves. We fan out and get rid of the true threats instead of fools that can die off easily."  
"Like that mutt Brackenclaw!" hissed a creamy she-wolf who was sitting near the mountain of dog's teeth.  
"Exactly, Icepelt, and we will save him for last."  
Rushpelt nodded his assent. "And what about Knifestorm? She would be a perfect weapon, capable of handling all of them with one paw."  
"What if she turns on us?" Blackheart of Thorn Pack hissed. Redstorm could see the muscles churning under that magnificent glossy tortoiseshell pelt. "She might spread rumours in the camp. If things get out of hand…"  
"Rest assured that will not be the case." The brown wolf lashed his tail in satisfaction. "If she so much as whispers our plans in her sleep, I'll have her dead before you could rustle your pelt!" His icy gaze burned through his warriors' each in turn before continuing. "But I will give her the chance to prove herself. She could be a great and worthy warrior."  
"And what will we say at the next truce?" a golden-brown warrior hissed. "Will we continue to focus on the other Packs?"  
"We will, Rustclaw," Birchfang growled. "If we breach that effort, all our careful planning will be for nothing!" The brown wolf unsheathed his claws and scraped the elongated mutt's teeth against the rock face.  
A tortoiseshell warrior spoke up harshly. "Will there be any threats guarding the salt lake? If that is the case we have already lost the war before it has been fought." Redstorm wondered if she was from another pack. From her scent, she was from no warrior clan Redstorm ever knew.  
Orangefrost hissed impatiently. "No, Brokenfall; Stormpelt will see to that." She nodded to a pale ginger warrior with a scarred muzzle and a twisted jaw. He stared ahead at Birchfang, his eyes shining with admiration.  
"For too long, Brackenclaw has destroyed the strong and protected the filth," Birchfang yowled. "But now has come the time to declare yourselves. Come with me now, and you will receive a life of power and strength. Death to Brackenclaw!"  
The clearing was filled with howls of assent. Orangefrost took up the battle cry, followed by a victorious howl as the wolves spilled into the open. Pelts snagged against nettles and the heavy thrum of paws drummed onto the forest floor.  
Redstorm felt himself backing away as the pounding in his head ached. He raced toward the den, keeping close to the bracken as all around him the other wolves filed out of the forest.  
The ghostly wail of the battle cry thrummed in Redstorm's ears as he weaved through the sea of hazy mist. Surely, Birchfang would kill him if he knew…

"Watch it!" Amberdawn hissed. Redstorm lolled to one side, crashing into Amberdawn as he did, his eyes finally open. He was safe in his den, his hind paws curled around his mossy bed, but his front claws were prickling Amberdawn's fur. Redstorm hurriedly sheathed them; sheepishly looking down at his shaking paws he tried to stop them from violently thrumming against the pine needles scattered across the den floor.  
"Sorry, Amberdawn," he muttered. "I didn't mean…"  
All around him, he could see the other warriors sleeping peacefully around the shelter, not even stirring as the sound of drizzly rain splashed off the den roof.  
"I was dreaming and you were ripping my pelt off!" Amberdawn snarled.  
Redstorm blinked in surprise. "Of what?" he countered. "Birchfang being your deputy?" He lashed his tail in fury, unable to contain his rage on the mottled brown warrior.  
"That noble wolf has taken us in, Redstorm," Amberdawn hissed. "And he has promised us a greater power than Realm of Light itself. Don't you want that?"  
"Noble!" Redstorm howled, loud enough to wake up half the pack. "Has he gotten to you, too? Do you have any loyalty to Brackenclaw?"  
"Of course not!" Amberdawn sneered. "Brackenclaw is too soft for his own good. If he had half the brains of the Silver Wolf he would know to give himself up."  
"How dare you say that, you piece of fox dung!" Redstorm yowled. "You should listen to yourself – you sound like Knifestorm!"  
For a heartbeat, the brown warrior looked almost content. Then she knit her face back into a deadly scowl, glowering at her fellow warrior.  
"There, only the strongest rule the forest," she hissed. "I would rather be a part of that than keep living with you weak mongrels."  
"Not even Orangefrost is that ruthless," Redstorm snarled. "Would you leave your clan behind if it was weak? Your littermates?"  
"I have no littermates," Amberdawn sneered. "Not anymore."  
"Wrong. Brackenclaw has treated you like his family. As a leader…"  
Amberdawn stiffened, her pelt fluffed up for warmth. "You think Brackenclaw is a great leader? The only wolf worth following is the Silver Wolf!"  
"Then join her, you heartless traitor." Redstorm growled. He tried settling against his mossy bed, trying to get comfortable. But the bedding was frozen stiff, as if all the body heat was leeched out of it, and so Redstorm lay there, cold.  
He shuddered to think what would happen if Amberdawn tried to lead him into this mess. He struggled to get comfortable under the freezing weather and asked his warrior ancestors for guidance.  
But not even the Realm of Light could relent this overwhelming tide of death. 


	4. Chapter 4

3:

The bitter wind threw sharp bits of flint into Redstorm's muzzle, making him wince; the rabbit he had caught for the pack was still locked squarely in his frozen jaws. His mouth watered at the warm smell of fresh meat, but he persisted, down the cliff face and up the trenches to the Scar Pack entrance. It had been a struggle to keep up with the dawn patrol, and now that Redstorm was back on his hunting privileges again, he could not let Brackenclaw down.  
Ice cracked underpaw as the young warrior trudged through the dense woods to the river: he had not slept since the last half-moon, when he had first learned of Amberdawn's treachery. It was a joke, and he was lured into it – he thought he could trust his pack mate. He was wrong.  
Redstorm remembered the last full moon, when the clan had gathered together to share news of the forest. Brackenclaw had told the warriors in turn of a great and terrible battle that would soon take place. That, Redstorm had heard, hadn't gone too well. No warrior believed Brackenclaw, at least from Knifestorm's point of view. She had boasted to the packs that the dark ginger wolf was a fool and not to be trusted. At that time, Redstorm had firmly said she could go stick her muzzle in the thorn patch for all she was worth.  
A sinking feeling surged through the red warrior's stomach but he pushed it away. He could see the battlefield, a churning pit of blood and fur, in amongst the brilliant white coat of snow. He remembered the fight all too well: he had teamed up with his warrior patrol to fend off Frost Pack's war against Rippleflame's wolf clan. Fire Pack had demanded hunting rights into every territory, and when Scar Pack refused, things had gotten ugly. Redstorm passed through the moorland; the rabbit hanging limp in his jaws, he padded back up the silver rise.  
As Redstorm pushed his way through the thick, overhanging branches that blocked his view of the camp entrance, thorns snagged his pelt. Deftly he shook them off, and trotted toward the deer track that covered a frog's leap away from the fresh prey burrow. Dropping the rabbit near the gorse bush that covered the prey, he turned and stacked fresh moss onto the pile for extra support. This pile was not as big as last winter's – they needed a lot of prey each time, and tonight's was barely enough to feed a famished chaffinch. All the decent rabbits would be burrowed in their shelter, hibernating till next spring. The one that Redstorm had caught was much scrawnier, with its ribs sticking out for every wolf in Scar Pack to see. Redstorm sighed and was turning back to join the dawn patrol, when a large stocky black-and-gray wolf turned toward him.  
"Redstorm!" the warrior hissed. His ears were flat against his head, and his glossy pelt was as smooth as ever. Redstorm wondered how Shredpelt kept it that way. He was tempted to ask him, if not for the way he was staring daggers at him. Redstorm didn't dare wind him up more. Shredpelt was strong, brave, and a brilliant warrior, but Redstorm knew there lurked a more sinister reason for following Brackenclaw's warriors.  
"Brackenclaw has dismissed you from hunting duty. He needs you in his den. Now, if you can spare the time." The glare Shredpelt gave him this time was deathly lethal, as if he still found the warrior rather odd-looking. The first time Redstorm was taken in from the moorland, the other warriors mistook him for a fox because of his bright red fur and black paws. He was determined to prove them wrong, that he was as brave as them.  
"Why?"  
Shredpelt gave him a withering look. "I'm sure I don't know!" he hissed. "Just remember that I don't find you a useful ally. Scar Pack or other, you will tear us apart."  
"If you think I would betray Scar Pack then it's your funeral, not mine."  
Shredpelt snarled. "I know where you go every night, fox mutt. Iceshadow is lucky to have you in her army." He glowered again at Redstorm before snatching the scrawny rabbit from the cluster of prey. Redstorm watched Shredpelt stalk into his den, and then he raced off to talk to Brackenclaw. He was glad to be done with that arrogant snake, and it was no crime to see his leader again.

At a first glance the leader's den might have been similar to the warriors', but the two could not have been more opposite. A circle of vines danced near the embrace of the living shelter; a cosy nest of ferns and twigs lay to one side; in the centre was the best carpet of grass and mothballs Star Realm could offer them. They lay at Redstorm's claws, every instinct telling him to snuggle into it. Thick bedding crafted from Crippledfoot herself lay near Redstorm's paws. He dug his claws into it, feeling the soft touch. He ducked into the fern curtain, surprised to see Brackenclaw waiting for him already.  
"You look stressed," the dark ginger leader remarked. "Another bad hunting trip?"  
Redstorm nodded, and with a weary sigh, flopped onto the soft ground and rested his aching body, tail between his paws.  
Brackenclaw watched him with a silent stare that may as well been blank.  
"Now," the wolf leader said simply. "I have been considering what we must do now that Frostpelt has left in search of new recruits."  
"Why?" hissed Redstorm.  
"I believe it would be…difficult to arrange more warriors to guard this camp."  
Redstorm's paw ripped up a clump of nettles. "Are you sure?" he gasped. "But you can't turn your back on warriors that are willing to help us…"  
"It is not a matter of how many warriors we have," Brackenclaw sneered. "It is simply under the will of the Realm of Light. They have told me what we must do."  
"I don't understand," Redstorm hissed. "Why is it that you can accept help from mutts, but not pure-blooded warriors in the Half Woods?"  
"Because we do not know them." Brackenclaw spoke commandingly, but his tone was bitter. "And there are many wolves that you are…familiar with."  
"I am a full warrior of the Black Forest," Redstorm argued. "And I am trained under the law of the Realm of Light! I am not so ignorant that I would…"  
"Of most things, Redstorm. You are," Brackenclaw interrupted. "And I would prefer if you were, for the pack's sake. This discussion is not under debate. I am your elder as well as your leader, and you should respect my decisions."  
Redstorm didn't press his leader further, but lowered his gaze.  
"The situation is not stable on its own," Brackenclaw continued. "It might come to delaying our full moon gatherings in order to focus on more proper matters."  
"Such as?" Redstorm murmured, expecting the worst.  
"Such as how to take back the Black Forest."  
Redstorm's belly prickled in surprise. "You think we can?"  
"I think we have to. The loss of the control of the Forest has every pack restless. There are many warriors who are uneasy about its powers, and consider it a bad omen. It may be that the Realm of Light is angry with us and will not provide the clan with the normal amount of prey." He fixed Redstorm with a cold glance before continuing. "Our warriors have been blamed for not protecting it more closely. Now that Frostpelt has gone to collect more strange wolves to protect the Black Forest, suspicion has fallen on anyone who was seen with him…including you."  
Redstorm felt a sick pit of worry churn in his stomach. "Me? Are you…?"  
"Serious, Redstorm? Yes." His tail tip flinched. "You were seen speaking in your den with Frostpelt when the others were out on hunting patrol. That was only a short time before he declared his treachery to the Forest and left us."  
"That was a fake oath," Redstorm hissed. "I was asking him why he was leaving; everyone in the pack knows that!"  
"Sure, everyone in the pack," Brackenclaw murmured. "But not in the Forest. Whatever arguments may arise within the next full moon, I have assured the other warriors in this pack that no warrior of mine would ever flee with Frostpelt and take up his foolishness." Brackenclaw dug his paws into the soft hearth. "All we need to do now is recover the Black Forest from the controls of the enemy."  
"How will we do this?" Redstorm asked quietly.  
"I don't know for sure, not until the other leaders give me permission. Until I do, I will stand by what I have told Frostpelt before he left: we will send out a trained patrol of our strongest warriors to make the Silver Wolf give us the Forest. If needed, with bloodshed."  
"No!" the fox-coloured warrior spat. "We can't break the laws, every rule our warrior ancestors laid down for us!"  
"They have been rewritten," Brackenclaw snapped. "And I believe it the best thing we can do for the clan. We are sworn to noble fighting, but nothing prevents my warriors from taking back what is ours."  
"But what if the Silver Wolf is expecting it?"  
"Then, if she is prepared to be reasonable, she will step down."  
"And how can you send our best warriors into battle on the Silver Wolf's territory and let us pass unnoticed?" Redstorm hissed. "We simply aren't able to slip into open land!"  
"We won't," growled Brackenclaw. "But if we are challenged, six hundred of our most capable warriors can withstand any war."  
"You can't!" Redstorm howled, leaping to his paws. "Many of our wolves would be killed, or gravely injured. There would be nothing left…"  
"It is not up to you what I choose to do or say, Redstorm. I told you my plan because I thought you were wise enough to accept it. Clearly, I was wrong. My fellow leaders can decide what is best for our clan, and they will agree with me."  
"But Frostpelt is not a threat."  
"I know that!" Brackenclaw hissed. "But my followers don't necessarily trust my word. It is a way for me to protect him without further harm to my pack."  
Without waiting to see if Redstorm would protest further, the dark ginger leader rose stiffly to his paws, turned tail, and stalked out of his den.

It was dark. Redstorm could sense something was near. The warriors had all retired for the night, and Brackenclaw was on early hunting duty with Shredpelt and Dapplewhisker. Redstorm paced the dais, digesting what he had heard.  
Would Brackenclaw really risk the lives of so many warriors just to take back the Forest? Would the other leaders let Brackenclaw keep his word? To send innocent warriors into battle was unthinkable, but they believed it was the only way to win back the Forest and restore peace to the packs. If Brackenclaw was so eager to take back the Forest, he could do it by his own merits, not Frostpelt's.  
Brackenclaw was not one to back down from a decision, and could be deadly if needed be. And, Redstorm knew, if he wanted an attack on the whole clan, he could very likely rally one from almost no words at all.  
But the collection of warriors in that patrol was unthinkable! Tens of thousands of wolves would die because of his leader's foolishness. Redstorm knew he had to stop that from happening, but how? He had no words of inspiration, no great advice to keep an army of warriors from destroying the Black Forest.  
But he might know a certain someone who could help him out.  
Heart pounding, he rushed across the thickening snow and glared at the meadow surrounding the Forest. If he was not mistaken, one of the hunting spots in the meadow lead to a secret passage near his old hunting grounds.  
Redstorm bristled his red pelt. Surely, this visit to that dreadful place was for the good of the clan…he could not stand by and let his fellow warriors be killed – even Amberdawn, who did not deserve his trust. He placed one black paw onto the soft mushy white blanket of snow and crept into the sandy hallow of the hated Blood Realm. 


	5. Chapter 5

4:

A pale flare of the frosted sun meant that spring was late, which surprised Redstorm. Normally, if they were lucky, winter was a little generous with its blessings. But now it felt as if all of Black Forest was being punished.  
Sighing, Redstorm tasted the air, allowing foul scents of Blood Realm warriors wash over him, though he could barely take one in without retching. Thick swirls of gray and white overlapped each other in the frozen winter air – it was the same here, too. Typical, since winter was all Blood Realm could get.  
Thick, tall trees blocked his view of the mainland as he padded through the marsh. Beside him lay a black swirling river, which rested between the trenches and the forest. All around him, the Blood Realm warriors tumbled and screeched as they fought, viciously fending off blows to the throat. Thick sand stretched out from below his dusty black paws, and a thin layer of thorns circled the hollow.  
"Not long now," hissed a sleek, familiar voice. "You're almost there."  
Redstorm padded on, aware that Amberdawn was trotting alongside him. The air in this dimension was so thick he could hardly breathe, and the warriors would be suspicious of his presence. He would have to tread lightly.  
Redstorm winced at a sudden lick of pain. He looked down to see his pad, torn and bleeding in the crisp sunlight, snagged on a thorn.  
"Hurry up!" Amberdawn snarled. "I haven't got all day. I missed training for this!"  
"My pad is torn, you heartless coward," Redstorm snapped.  
"Get used to it," the small brown warrior retorted. "It's better than a torn belly!"  
Wrapping his torn paw in a withering leaf, he continued to limp downwards.  
"I can't believe I'm back here," Redstorm muttered darkly.  
"It really brings back memories," Amberdawn agreed, with the same bitter tone.  
She pointed to a cave in the centre of the sunlight with her tail. "It's in there." Redstorm ran, following his old pack mate toward the crystal sycamore.  
The she-warrior nudged him forwards. Redstorm entered hesitantly to find a scruffy black wolf blocking his view of the inside.  
"It would seem we have visitors," he snarled in a scratched tone. "Amberdawn.  
What brings you here? Did you really think we'd take you back?"  
"No, Darkstorm." Amberdawn's tone was like ice. "I am loyal to the Silver Wolf."  
Darkstorm raised his muzzle. His eyes were in blue slits now. "A likely story," he hissed. "If you're so loyal, why don't you come back to us?" Without waiting for a reply, he added, "Who's this furball?"  
"Redstorm," Amberdawn sneered. "He trains with me in Blood Realm."  
"He smells like a forest mutt!"  
"Its part of my cover," Redstorm lied quickly. "I spend every night here training."  
"He pretends to live with Brackenclaw, to get close to him," Amberdawn added.  
Darkstorm scowled blacker. "Fine, I will allow you to pass." He rose to his paws to let them through the chamber.  
"It's just through here, Redstorm." Amberdawn's rusty hiss filled the wide cavern.  
He nodded and stepped into the thin beams of light, turning his fox-coloured pelt to flame. Crossing over the trenches he paused to check the scent: it was stale, so she had not been here recently. Angrily, Redstorm was about to give up when he smelled her, standing at the bottom of the trench.  
"Perfect," he snarled. "You're here."  
"Yes, that's right, forest mutt." The Silver Wolf's snow-white tail laced back and forth, glistening like frost. "Now remind me why you are here."  
Amberdawn growled, claws ripping into the fresh snow. "To offer you a trade."  
The white wolf padded up the rise, her long claws powerful enough to rip both the intruders to shreds. "Did you really think I'd let you come back?" she murmured.  
Amberdawn pawed the ground, flinching as the Silver Wolf locked her amber gaze to the brown warrior.  
"No," Amberdawn rasped. "I have found a great life as a forest wolf. There is plenty of fresh prey and no limits to the Forest either…"  
"Is that so?" the Silver Wolf whispered. "I would've thought you would remain loyal to me, Amberdawn. But I was wrong."  
"I have never stopped," Amberdawn growled. "I just needed time to gather my strength until I returned to you. I never wanted to live with soft pack wolves."  
"Right." She pressed her thin pelt against Amberdawn. "You should have thought about that when you betrayed us."  
"Never again," Amberdawn mumbled. "I promise."  
The Silver Wolf dipped her head in acceptance of her fellow warrior. "Good." She turned her muzzle to glare at Redstorm. "And I see you brought Redstorm with you. How…pleasant."  
"That's right." Redstorm didn't even flinch as he met her gaze.  
"Since you're here, I guess I can make an exception. Not many wolves come grovelling back to me and are taken in so easily. Normally I would let Birchfang deal with this, but he was so willing to welcome you back." Her uneasy glance at her deputy made Redstorm feel cold. He could hear the snarling of wolves in mid-battle, but it was like a birdsong to him. He had long since gotten used to it.  
The sandy hallow that burned his paws was unbearable, almost as sickening as the frosty glare many of the warriors gave him as they stared, their eyes glittering with curiosity at the three wolves.  
"Now, what do you want?" the Silver Wolf hissed. "Last time I checked you still believed in the war against me. Now you dare ask me for forgiveness?"  
"No," Redstorm snarled. "It's not like that. I need your help, and I don't like asking for it." His voice was shaking, but he willed himself to continue. "Brackenclaw wants to fight the other clans in order to take back his Forest."  
"His Forest?" Birchfang hissed from behind him. His glossy brown coat glowed in the thin half-light. "Don't you mean our Forest, Redstorm?"  
"Stay out of this, Birchfang." The white warrior snapped her head round to him.  
Glaring at Redstorm, he backed away into the shadows.  
"There will be an invasion of wolves, each one from a different pack. Most of them will shed blood on your warriors until we reclaim the Forest."  
"Will there be many of you?"  
"Yes. A large collection of wolves will strike next moonrise."  
"That will be the next truce!" the Silver Wolf growled. Snarling, she dug her claws deeper into the frozen dirt.  
"But how can the living threaten the dead?" Darkstorm hissed from the shadows. He stalked up to the Silver Wolf, flanking her left side.  
"Not all of us are able to come back into the afterlife. Some of the dead warriors will fade into nothing, until they are gone forever. But the living…"  
Amberdawn's croak trailed off as the Silver Wolf motioned for her to be silent.  
The Silver Wolf regarded Redstorm for a moment, until with a flick of her tail she swept an ocean of black mist away from her spies.  
"You may leave now. Redstorm and I need a minute to discuss the war."

Redstorm felt his paws shift, the ground shaking beneath him as he followed the Silver Wolf to her den. This was nothing like Brackenclaw's, Redstorm knew. Dark cobwebs hung from the walls; a pile of bones littered the right corner of the den, their surfaces lit by a single beam of light. Shafts of thin moonlight shone through the roof like a sword. Frost covered the almost completely solid ground.  
"I can smell your fear scent, forest mutt." The Silver wolf's growl edged from the darkness. "If you wish to train with me again, you will learn to be strong."  
He could see her frosty pelt now, her glowing white fur bushed up. Two wolves, Darkstorm and a ragged tortoiseshell she-wolf, flanked her either side. Redstorm tasted their scents. It was very fresh, so they had just arrived, although Darkstorm's stench was drier than his fellow warrior.  
"You've met Darkstorm," the Silver Wolf hissed. "The other wolf is Brokenfall."  
The tortoiseshell bared her teeth. Yellow fangs winked at Redstorm evilly in the harsh moonrise. Her thick tail swung low and she looked at him as though he were a ripped piece of caribou.  
"I have let you come here for a reason," the Silver Wolf continued. "You should know by now that I…fear this war."  
"My warriors will not attack out of cruelty, as they believe you do. Brackenclaw has sworn to protect the Blacklands, and everyone in it. That means he has sent a patrol of his best warriors to hunt you down."  
Her icy fur smoothed a bit, and the Silver Wolf smiled ruefully. "Of course he has. He believes I take pleasure in cruelty and death. I assure you that this is not what it seems like. I do the best I can to make peace with you, that's all."  
"And yet you capture our warriors to use them against us. You kill our pups in our own territory! You even take our lands for yourself, and you live in this hell."  
The Silver Wolf sighed. "Yes, I do. I don't find it amusing, and I try to do it as minimum as I can. You see, I only kill pups that are weak. If I didn't take them, someone else would have. Brackenclaw had sent me here, along with a handful of warriors to let me die off completely. And those Pack wolves? I need them to build my great empire. Without them, Brackenclaw would claim my Realm and leave me with nothing else to live for."  
"Don't tell him that!" Brokenfall hissed. "If you do, even the youngest Scar Pack apprentice will hear of it…we will surely be overrun."  
"Not now, Brokenfall. Think of our…friend here. You can make your suggestions when he has gone back to his clan."  
The look Brokenfall gave Redstorm was livid. Her amber gaze burned though his, making his blood run cold. He lashed his tail angrily. Curling his lip and unsheathing his claws, he stalked towards her.  
The Silver Wolf purred in satisfaction. Her coat was completely smoothed over now, as white as the frost on the ground.  
"You have spunk, forest mutt, I'll give you that." He blue gaze had softened, melting his angry glare at Brokenfall. Redstorm felt doubt burn in his pelt.  
"If you're going to train with us, you should know my true name." Her tone was like ice, but much more soothing. Redstorm didn't know what to make of it.  
Was this a trap? If it was, Redstorm was in deep trouble. Brackenclaw would either drive him out, or maybe even worse. Even so, curiosity was creeping up on him. At best it was some kind of test, and Redstorm felt himself burning with shame.  
Darkstorm's eyes had widened in fear. Brokenfall was still growling with distaste at Redstorm, yet her glare had melted into disagreement. The frost-coloured warrior ignored them, blue eyes sparkling.  
"Go on," the Silver Wolf coaxed. Redstorm leaned forward to capture the whisper…  
Iceshadow. 


	6. Chapter 6

5:

Thick crisps of snow wafted along the rise and flickered over Brackenclaw's pelt. He crouched low, aware that his thin bushy coat could be seen for miles in this weather, glowing pale amongst the frost.  
Paws trudging, he ducked beneath a shrivelled willow. The scent of deer wafted through his nose. He followed that amazing scent until he could see a faun, digging rapidly between the snow tufts.  
He pounced with his claws outstretched, but the deer leaped away just in time. Paws thrumming the ground, Brackenclaw gave chase, knowing this hunt could be lost within a split second. This was the time for the whole pack to be fed, to grow strong on the best prey the Forest could give them. Although there was little sun shining in the frosty pale sky, the Blacklands were rich with food.  
Another smell burst out of the clearing. Confused, Brackenclaw dipped his head to one side. By this time, the faun had bounded away, its fear-scent still gripping at its pelt.  
Angry, Brackenclaw turned to the animal that had cost him his dinner. A fox had leaped up onto the rise, growling in anticipation. Two twinkling green eyes glowed for the thrill of the chase, his paws scrabbling to catch up with his prey. Brackenclaw stared, amazed, as the young warrior pounced on the terrified faun, clutching it with his paws and finishing it off with a snap of its neck.  
The mouth-watering smell of the fresh prey lanced Brackenclaw's mouth. He rose stiffly, hackles high, stalking toward the fox-red wolf.  
"Well done, Redstorm. I didn't see you there."  
Redstorm snarled smugly, flicking his tail, which sent dust swirling around him.  
Brackenclaw felt himself turn cold. He knew that his apprentice was training in the Blood Realm, and he wondered how much Iceshadow was corrupting him. It was his job as a leader to protect his warriors from this evil, but he was slowly spending more time in the Realm than in the Black Forest.  
"It's true enough you've been spending more time with Iceshadow than with your true pack," Brackenclaw warned. "I can see that those strategies are from her."  
"I'm only in the Blood Realm to spy on them," Redstorm hissed. "You sent me there, remember? Iceshadow knows you're planning this war!"  
Brackenclaw knew that Redstorm was a skilled hunter and warrior, but deep down he wondered how much he knew of Iceshadow's deceit. He couldn't help wondering if Redstorm would ever learn to be humble.  
"Of course I know that," Brackenclaw spat back. "But don't show the other members of the pack. It must be kept a secret."  
The fox-coloured warrior felt the fur creep along his spine. His growl was nothing more than a bitter tone. "I know I'm betraying the Wolf Law," he hissed. "But so is Amberdawn, and she's not doing it for your benefit. She's a liar."  
"Amberdawn has her own choices to make," Brackenclaw snarled. "The Realm of Light has told me that she has turned on us. I won't let that happen to you."  
"It won't," Redstorm spat.  
"How do you know that?" The ginger leader unsheathed his claws and stalked steadily toward his apprentice. "A real wolf shows more loyalty to his leader!"  
"I didn't see Amberdawn showing enough loyalty to you when she showed up for that clan meeting last summer," Redstorm retorted. "She was boasting about how every wolf knows that Iceshadow now owned the Forest. How is that not treacherous?"  
"She is young," Brackenclaw hissed. He hated defending his foster daughter this way, but he felt he had to. And for what? That hopefully Iceshadow's attempt to brainwash his adopted pup would wear off? "Unlike you, she has a lot to learn."  
"Well, I'm more loyal than she is, aren't I?" He spat half-heartedly and poked the fawn with a miserable nudge.  
"There's more to it than you think. The Wolf Law was rewritten many centuries ago. Even the most crippled wolf in the Forest knows that."  
"I'm braver than Frostpelt and more dangerous than Amberdawn," he growled. "What makes you think I can't handle Iceshadow myself?"  
"That's not what I meant." The ginger warrior paced crossly, his sharp claws raking the base of the snow. "Your littermates would realise that no loyal warrior would boast about anything like this!"  
"I have no littermates." Redstorm's hiss was genuine, as Brackenclaw flinched, startled at the young wolf's ferocity. "Go tell that to Amberdawn. Just because she's your adopted daughter doesn't give you the right to make excuses for her. She's a traitor to the clan, and you know that!"  
Brackenclaw hated bringing up these arguments, but sometimes the young warrior's decisions irritated him. "I know," he mumbled. "I've been there, and I've seen inside her mind. She has no more pack honour left. Her heart is with the Blood Realm now."  
Redstorm gave a low growl in the back of his throat, and his tail swung angrily along the dusty snow. Brackenclaw studied him for a minute, and then picked up his deer and stalked back to the clan camp.

"Let all wolves strong enough to catch a fox join by Twin Oaks for a meeting." Rippleflame's yowl was loud enough to sound across the whole Forest. All around her, warriors from all four packs gathered around the Twin Oaks, an old oak tree split in half by a river many months before the dawn of the Packs. Brackenclaw sat regally at Oakfrost's side. His long tail was lashing against the rock surface with unease. Redstorm, along with the other Scar Pack warriors, filed in the clearing with heads held high.  
The fox-red warrior flinched, suddenly cold. In the middle of the grassy plain stood two pups, one black-and-white and one tortoiseshell. Their pelts were ragged and torn, and recent wounds were glistening a deep red. Redstorm wanted to run from the sight but his paws were firmly rooted to the swishing grass.  
"Wolves of the Packs," Rippleflame howled. "We are expected to meet a dark hour to the Black Forest. The war, for example. Iceshadow's ranks continue to swell with ferocity, and we must rise to reach her challenge." Her speech was met with a series of caterwauls, although it only came from Frost Pack and Fire Pack. Brackenclaw and Featherstone glanced at each other, puzzled, with their warriors equally confused.  
"The Realm of Light has guided Fire Pack," Rippleflame continued. "My Pack is blessed by our warrior ancestors. We are the only ones to have survived the bitter winter, and even with prey scarcer than last full moon, we thrive while you all struggle."  
Rippleflame paused to give Brackenclaw a look that could have killed a braver warrior. "Although we have pure blood running beneath all our pelts, I have come to tell you of a grave danger. Times are growing difficult for all of you, and we cannot let any warrior spoil it, not for us or any other wolf in the forest."  
"No," Oakfrost hissed sullenly, and her warriors below her cheered with loud yowls.  
"Exactly, my friends. Thorn Pack is weakened. And we must destroy that." She flicked her tail toward the frightened apprentices near the Split Rock. "Surrounded by our ancient enemies, we must be sure that our warriors are true and loyal. How can the Wolf Law expect us to accept mutts from the human village, or birth such lame excuses for warriors? Half-mutt and half-wolf pups of such a joke, like these two here, will never be accepted by us."  
"Disgusting half-bred pups," Oakfrost snarled. The Fire Pack deputy, Whiskerfish, raised his voice so he could be heard against the yowls of assent from Fire Pack.  
"They will most likely turn on us, to share our secrets with their human allies and kill us in battle. They mock everything us pure-bloods have worked so hard to gain!"  
Rippleflame cocked her head to one side as she stared defiantly at the Frost Pack leader, her eyes glittering with menace. "You showed a lack of faith in the Black Forest when you birthed these half-bloods with a filthy dog," she hissed. "Your Frost Pack is defeated by their merits, and you must weaken that, for the good of the clan's future."  
Oakfrost nodded, her eyes shining bright. She turned to Dashpelt and glared at him with her menacing blue eyes. Rippleflame was still howling her cruelty toward the pups.  
"I will allow you to prove your loyalty to Iceshadow, Redstorm. Kill these two half blood warriors. Together we will be strong – let us rule as one, and Two Stars will surely accept us as a pure clan again."  
The red warriors' fur bristled as he turned to face Oakfrost. "Is this really what you want?" he growled. "To let your pups die by your own claws?"  
Oakfrost grinned, showing wickedly sharp fangs. "These are times for loyal warriors," she hissed. "We must fight for survival, and it is difficult for every Pack to prosper."  
Redstorm's green eyes were glazed with terror. "But they're your own."  
"No," Oakfrost growled. "I had made the mistake of trusting a mutt." She threw a dirty glare at Captain, a large Mastiff from the barn, who sat in between Dashpelt and Greenheather. "Never again will I birth such foul excuses for warriors."  
"He was birthed as a mutt," Rippleflame growled. "No loyal wolf would take a filthy loner, or for that matter, a dog bred to humans, as a mate. It's unthinkable."  
Redstorm narrowed his eyes coldly. "I see."  
Turning to the ginger Fire Pack leader, Dashpelt hissed. "I will speak for Redstorm. Let him go and kill me instead."  
Rippleflame squared her shoulders, resolute. "Fine, then." She flicked a paw at Grimtail. The powerful golden-coloured wolf had already crouched into a pouncing stance, his eyes glittering as he waited for the order to attack.  
Rippleflame snarled a few words of attack to Grimtail, and his claws were digging into the stone, small shafts of rock crumbling off the top.  
With a yowl that rang across the treetops, Grimtail flew at Dashpelt. As he watched the two warriors ripping into each other, Redstorm felt a tide of pity flash through him. He could only see the end of Dashpelt. As a warrior he was forbidden to help an enemy wolf in a battle, but he wanted so much to jump to the white warrior's side and fight. He knew that Rippleflame would take him down easily, though, under the paws of her loyal and powerful warriors. Grimtail had hold of Dashpelt's scruff and was ripping his fur off. Oakfrost watched intently, and no warrior, Frost Pack or other, was ever going to object the fight. Dashpelt was scrabbling in vain to break free, but Grimtail had a tight lock around his throat. He had bit into Dashpelt, ducking to avoid his powerful white paws. Grimtail had raked his claws down Dashpelt's belly. It was over.  
Dashpelt tried to snarl defiance, but that was cut short from the sudden wailing that had escaped his throat. The Fire Pack warrior released him, as Dashpelt's body shuddered and blood oozed from the wound. His body gave a final jerk, and then he was still.  
The white warrior was dead. 


	7. Chapter 7

6:

"No!" Featherstone's wail was a mask of terror, and the pain in her blue eyes was unmistakable. Had Dashpelt been her brother, then? Redstorm thought. He watched as the Thorn Pack leader raced up to her dead kin. Burying her muzzle in his torn pelt, sobs passed through her fur. Brackenclaw could taste the fear sparking from beneath her pelt, fresh as a prey-scent in the summer.  
"Dashpelt…" Featherstone sobbed. "My brother is dead!"  
Grimtail glanced at Dashpelt's unmoving body. His long white claws were flexed, his back arched. He spat threateningly at the two apprentices.  
Suddenly Brackenclaw stepped forward. "Rippleflame, this has to stop," he snarled. "The Realm of Light forbids cruel murder like this, especially at a clan gathering."  
Grimtail raised a paw angrily, but Rippleflame flicked her tail at him, ushering her cold-blooded warrior aside. "Of course, forest mutt. Forgive me for the impulsiveness. There are other matters to discuss in clan meetings, I know."  
"Other matters?" Redstorm hissed. "Like what?"  
Rippleflame smiled ruefully. "Like the interesting fact that your mangy pack is sheltering our prisoners. Would you care to tell us what that is all about?"  
Brackenclaw hissed defiantly. "What we do in our Pack in none of your concern."  
"But it is. The blood that runs through Scar Pack runs through ours as well. We are united as a clan, and would not be a whole without each other. Of course, just the pure-bloods."  
"Traitors!" Featherstone spat. She had just given the last of her grief to the white warrior and had risen up defiantly. "How dare you use my brother's death as a political tool?"  
The powerful white she-wolf lunged at Rippleflame with naked claws. Her paws struck Rippleflame's muzzle, but before she could tear the Fire Pack leader's pelt off, thunder clashed against the half-moon.  
"The Realm of Light is angry with us for breaking the truce," Brackenclaw noted. "The meeting must settle as a whole agreement."  
Angrily, Featherstone shoved Rippleflame away from her. "How will I co-operate with Fire Pack, Brackenclaw?" she spat. "Their leader arranged Dashpelt's murder."  
"You will learn," Brackenclaw snarled, "that together we must face the enemy's swelling ranks and take her down, no matter what the personal cost."  
"I wanted to trust you," Featherstone croaked. "Now I am without my kin, and you expect me to ally with this monster!" She whirled around to face Oakfrost, hackles high. "I never thought that you'd be caught up in Rippleflame's lies. You would rather kill your own pups than call them your own."  
"They are half-blood," Oakfrost snarled. "No warrior wants them."  
"We'll take them." Hal, a light-coloured tabby tom from the barn hissed defiance. Every wolf turned to face him in disbelief. "They need someone to look after them. Captain is their only remaining kin, after you have publicly disowned them. He is ashamed to ever have called you my mate." He glared at Oakfrost for so long Redstorm thought it lasted ten winters. Finally he nodded to Featherstone, who gently scooped up the pups in her teeth, passing one to Captain. The pups wailed and thrashed in his teeth, as Oakfrost and Rippleflame watched. Rippleflame's gaze burned with such ferocity, fire seemed to dance in her amber eyes. Oakfrost's lip curled with hate.  
"You take the pups on one condition." Oakfrost's bark broke the silence. "Our armies will go south, toward the Blood Realm. There, Fire and Frost will join Iceshadow."  
"We await your decision on the third day of autumn," Rippleflame interjected.  
"So be it," Featherstone hissed. The gray leader turned to Brackenclaw and nudged him aside. "Do you wish that to happen?"  
"Of course I don't," Brackenclaw growled. "We will join Thorn Pack to fight for the rights to the Forest. Anyone who is caught on the Pack's lands will be killed. My warriors are granted that right."  
"Good," Oakfrost snarled. "Let them. It proves nothing; only your foolishness will be your demise. We all know that Iceshadow will take over in a few days' time. All the Packs will be dead on that day, Brackenclaw, and I expect you will be the first to go under her mighty paw."  
"Don't count on it," Redstorm hissed.  
"Really, forest dog?" Rippleflame countered. "After tonight, her Pack will rage across the Blacklands like a hurricane until the earth is barren. Then we can be certain we have proved our loyalty to the great Blood Realm."  
Hissing, Brackenclaw felt his back arch. "How dare you say that," he screeched.  
"Yes," Featherstone caterwauled. "The Realm of Light has always leaded us well."  
A series of angry yowls broke in from the other warriors, until a black-and-tortoiseshell warrior silenced the others. "We're wasting the Gathering," she spat. "Iceshadow would have us leave the land that has been the Packs' home for many centuries. So what if the armies muster south? We can always regroup and attack from higher ground."  
"Never!" Twinleaf hissed. "I would rather die than get mixed up with Rippleflame."  
"So would I," Redstorm snarled. "If the Realm of Light really is this powerful, why don't they help us in these desperate times? All the warriors curled up in their nests, then?"  
Rippleflame flexed her claws. "The Realm of Light teaches you how to be a foolish dog," she countered. "When Iceshadow takes command…"  
"If she takes command," Brackenclaw spat. "But for now, I am leader. My word stays."  
Oakfrost stepped forward. "We all know the rules of the Blacklands," she yowled. "And if Iceshadow is so willing to take us, so be it."  
"Traitor!" Brackenclaw snarled. He lunged toward Oakfrost with naked claws. Watching with horror, Redstorm could only see the bitter end of the smaller wolf – ripped apart at the mercy of Brackenclaw's hatred. But the Frost Pack leader nimbly leaped over him, narrowly avoiding Brackenclaw's teeth as he twisted his head around, his paws flailing as he landed on the smooth stone. Oakfrost unsheathed her claws angrily, stalking to the fox-red wolf with small pawsteps.  
"Let any wolf that thinks I'm a traitor say it to my face," she hissed. "No warrior alone has ever questioned my loyalty to my Pack. I am only doing what I believe is right."  
"Not for us. For Iceshadow," Brackenclaw spat. He leaped again, but Oakfrost was ready for him. She rolled over, finding her paws before Brackenclaw did. Lashing out at him, she scored her long claws down his pelt, easily missing his skin. Oakfrost's clumsy grip had torn nothing but red fur.  
Spitting, Brackenclaw reared up, his huge paws churning. He slammed his paws onto Oakfrost's back, letting out a yowl of satisfaction as she curled, letting her body go limp under his weight. Then she reared up as well, and skewered her long fangs into his neck. It was a near miss that otherwise could have been noted as a fatal hit. Brackenclaw rolled away from the bite, raking his claws down her muzzle. Rippleflame leaped into the fray, striking her paws onto Brackenclaw's head. Oakfrost rose to her paws unsteadily, with blood pooled around the face of the rock. The harsh blow that she had received would have killed any lesser warrior. Baring her teeth in defiance, Oakfrost stalked toward the screeching knot of fur. Rippleflame had Brackenclaw pinned, her teeth bared for the killing blow to the neck.  
"Stop!" Redstorm hissed. He leaped onto the stones and pulled Rippleflame off of his leader's body. "Is this really what we want? To live in fear and hate of each other?"  
"The Realm of Light chose me to lead the Forest," Rippleflame retorted. "It's my destiny to rise up and overcome them."  
Twinleaf paced the dais, his huge brown pelt rippling with unease. "It's their destiny to help us live by the Wolf Law," he growled. "Who else would follow Iceshadow out of loyalty to darkness? Not me. I was once a dog living with humans, but I still fight like the bravest forest-born wolf in the Blacklands!"  
"He is right," Redstorm ventured. "We must all help each other in this hour of death."  
"Never!" Rippleflame screeched. She shoved Brackenclaw into the brambles below and stood a little way in front of him. "I will never work with such cowardly mutts. I chose the power of the Blood Realm long ago. And now that I have everything I've no further use for the Black Forest." She moved to claw at Brackenclaw's pelt. Spitting his fury, Redstorm tackled her to the ground. She rolled over as Redstorm sent a flying blow to her skull, nearly crushing her. Oakfrost watched with wide, sightless blue eyes. For once, Brackenclaw could see her pelt rippling with unease, and her gaze gave nothing but terror away as he searched into them. The Frost Pack leader was at a loss.  
Brackenclaw scrambled to his large paws, blood trickling off his shoulder and dripping onto the stone slab. Turning to Rippleflame, he narrowed his eyes. "Follow us or go into exile," the Scar Pack warrior growled. "Your choice."  
"Your crimes against our warriors speak for themselves, dog," Rippleflame spat. "Why should I subject myself to you, a gutless piece of mouse vermin? Some leader you make, standing by mutts and half-bloods when they were at their weakest. I would have never done that if I were leader. I would've made the Black Forest great again."  
"By following Iceshadow," Twinleaf rumbled. "I should have known you were like this."  
Featherstone turned to face Rippleflame. "You are hereby exiled to Blood Realm," she spat. "If any of my warriors see your scrap of followers again we'll shred you."  
"Let them," Rippleflame hissed. "Oakfrost. Come with me now and you'll have more power than you ever will with these mouse droppings!"  
"Come with you?" Oakfrost spat. "Why should I? I always respected you, Rippleflame. I wanted to stand by you. But you chose darkness. I can't follow you now. My place is here, with true warriors. I don't need your weakness."  
Hissing, Rippleflame arched her back. "Alright, stay then. I needed Iceshadow's help to become a leader. If you wish to be soft like Brackenclaw then that's your funeral."  
"Go now," Shredpelt growled. "Before we have to make you."  
Rippleflame scoffed. "Make me?" she yowled. "I'd like to see you try. Fire Pack will beat you with a single twitch of their tails. Smallwhisker!"  
The black she-wolf leaped down from the Twin Oaks, claws sheathed. Redstorm flattened his ears, ready if this warrior was about to fight. He looked across at Rippleflame – her eyes were shining with victory.  
"Fire Pack has a new leader now," Smallwhisker growled. "We no longer follow you." She flicked his tail at Whiskerfish, the new Fire Pack leader, who stepped up to the sycamore, his pelt burning with anger.  
"You showed greatness when you chose Whiskerfish as your deputy," Featherstone hissed. "Your time as leader is over. Now no wolf, half-warrior or other, will be harmed by your selfish actions."  
"Just you wait," Rippleflame sneered. "I'll lead the Blood Realm. And then all the power of the Realm of Light will quake at our arrival." She turned to Brackenclaw, yowling a challenge. "And when I sink my claws into you, forest dog, it will be the final revenge. Iceshadow has plans for you. Enjoy your freedom while you can."  
Whiskerfish nodded at Featherstone, a calmness filling his bones in the look he flashed the Thorn Pack leader. "Leave us in peace," he spat at Rippleflame. "You are now free to go to Iceshadow." He turned at flicked dirt over the sycamore, and it struck the old leader's face. Wincing, she turned tail and fled, the sounds of jeers and caterwauls filling up the cavern as she did. And then the ferns swallowed her up, and she was gone. 


	8. Chapter 8

7:

Cold wind blasted in Redstorm's muzzle, making him yelp in terror. A swirling mist shook his paws and a tide of wolves below the Great Chamber was ripping into each other's pelts. Birchfang stalked into the clearing, his thick pelt now half ragged and transparent, and a reminder to Redstorm that he was fading from old age. On the other side of the Blood Realm, a black-and-white warrior was wrestling with Brokenfall. He held her scruff so tight that blood drew; her paws were flailing as she tried to twist her head round to snap at his flank. Finally Birchfang leaped down from the Great Chamber and ripped his claws down Tornfur's throat.  
Twisting in a knot of heat and sweat, Amberdawn was flaying as she and the Blood Realm deputy aimed vicious blows at each other. Brokenfall was staring intently at the fight, not missing an inch of it – the two wrestled and tumbled in a screeching mix of blood and clumps of fur.  
"How dare you protect that weak insult of a wolf?" Birchfang snarled.  
"Tornfur was my kin," Amberdawn hissed. "You killed him!"  
"Good riddance," the brown deputy sneered. "He would have stopped you from being an excellent warrior if he lived. Aren't you going to thank me?" Biting into her spine, Birchfang clawed at the young warrior. She twisted in vain to break free and her massive tail was flicking in defiance. Huge paws grasped at her pelt as she was tugged down, into the dips below. A huge cluster of thorns were resting in the patch of ferns, and Amberdawn was dragged through them heartlessly. Yowling in pain, she broke away from the attack and cuffed her assailant in the muzzle. Birchfang let go, howling angrily that his attack was in vain. Slinking up behind Amberdawn, Brokenfall grasped her in her teeth and was tugging hard – a thick scar that was pulsing with blood settled in Amberdawn's muzzle. Scoring his long claws across Amberdawn's belly, Birchfang twisted away and ripped up her pelt, throat to tail. Amberdawn's body was staring sightlessly up at the red sky, her blue eyes faded and dull and her pelt ragged and torn.  
Breathing shallowly, Brokenfall turned and growled for Darkstorm to join her in a border patrol. Birchfang nodded in assent and howled to show that victory was theirs for the time being. Thunder flashed and crackled in the dim light of the moon, illuminating the grave scene below the blood-red sky and Birchfang's words.  
"He won't expect it," Birchfang hissed. "We must thin their numbers so that there will be no one but the stronger and purer warriors."  
Redstorm felt the ground tread light under his paws. The moss on the damp grass reeked of blood and death, and there was no prey to be seen.  
Why am I here?  
"What about their powers?" Brokenfall growled. "Are we so weak that we fear them?"  
"Never," Birchfang sneered. "We will attack from the west of the Forest, toward the lake. So long as they are driven out, we can be sure of victory."  
Suddenly the muscular pelt whipped around to breathe in his scent. "Welcome home, Redstorm. We've been expecting you."  
The snarl was a powerful alarm to the deafest of rabbits. The great wolf was straddled on top of Redstorm, his thick claws hooked into his fur. "I'm glad you're here," he said smoothly. "Banishing the pups was far easier than I had intended."  
Redstorm's snarl was barely a whisper. "You exiled Hallowfall and Flintstorm?"  
"Someone had to, you know. They would have weakened you. Be thankful for that."  
Hissing with terror, Redstorm curled his front claws in disgust, his body limp.  
"What's wrong, forest dog? Are you scared of your deputy?" Birchfang growled. "Has all of my exhaustive teaching gone to waste?"  
Redstorm spat defiance. "I'll never be afraid of Dapplewhisker!"  
"I suppose you were too hard on him, Birchfang!" spat a silky voice from the shadows. The thick gray clouds parted to let a small tortoiseshell pass through the undergrowth.  
"Don't interfere, Dottedfur. I'm training with my apprentice."  
"It sure looks like it," the young she-wolf hissed back. "Go easier on him. He had quite a shock when he learned of his true heritage."  
Birchfang snorted, as if he didn't believe a word Dottedfur had said. "And what good would it do?" he snarled. "You aren't a member of the Blood Realm."  
"I don't have to be," the tortoiseshell growled. "Birchfang, even you know better than to argue with a warrior from the Realm of Light."  
"Tales for pups," Birchfang hissed, but still he loosened his grip on Redstorm and had gotten off of him with a mighty leap. "Take heed of this, forest dog," he spat. "Next time I won't be so gentle with my teachings."  
"Gentle?" Dottedfur protested. "You were ripping his pelt off!"  
Birchfang cast a dirty look at the Realm of Light before answering. "When you're here next and your pathetic soul mate isn't around, watch your back," he threatened. "I know why you're really here. Wait till I tell Iceshadow."  
Grinning ruefully, he padded back into the den with his tail drooping low.

"You can never go back there again. You know that." Dottedfur's pelt was bristled in anger, and Redstorm could taste the fear mixing between her furs. "Iceshadow will kill you if you do, like Amberdawn."  
Redstorm padded on in step with the newcomer. "I know that," he snarled. "It's obvious. And when Birchfang tells Iceshadow I'm traitor we're all dead."  
"Every hope is not lost," Dottedfur murmured. "Your destiny was carved out many centuries before you were born. Since before the Forest, even. Two Stars has chosen you for this moment. You are the solo leader of Scar Pack."  
"How can I be leader?" Redstorm protested. "I'm not even deputy!"  
The calm fury Dottedfur fixed him with now made him stop. "Dapplewhisker may be deputy now, but he has his own life to give. He is old, and he cannot serve your Pack any longer. At the next full moon, Brackenclaw will choose another, more powerful, deputy."  
"I know," Redstorm snapped. "But I'm not good enough to lead the clan. You've got all the power of Two Stars to choose my destiny…"  
"No!" Dottedfur snarled. Redstorm could smell anger pulsing out of her. "The Realm of Light can't choose your path. We guide you but we cannot interfere with your problems."  
"Why not? Why can't I just think my clan is safe from the Blood Realm?"  
"But it is," Dottedfur hissed. "Your borders are magical. The Eastern side is the strongest defence you have, and think about your heritage."  
"What heritage?" Redstorm growled. "I have none."  
"What has Brackenclaw ever told you, Redstorm?" Dottedfur soothed. "Did he never explain to you this? Or tell you why you were born under the strongest power ever to have been cast among Two Stars?"  
The red warrior stopped and paced the border of the Realm of Light. Dottedfur sighed wearily and unsheathed her claws. "Of course he wouldn't," she snapped. "Much easier to blame everyone else for his problems."  
"He didn't," Redstorm hissed. "I was born under a curse. Half-bloods and pure-bloods don't mix together as a clan."  
"I know they don't," Dottedfur pressed him. "But think of this now and there will be less pain for you to journey through. The war will come, and I foresee a great power that you will soon acquire."  
"What has this got to do with me?" Redstorm growled. "I was not born to Scar Pack. My mother was a wolf and my father a fox. I am what happens when you break the Law of Two Stars. This is what happens when you are disloyal to your clan, your leader, and have nothing left to live for in the Forest!"  
"That's not true," Dottedfur said solemnly. "You are stronger than the forest. Don't you remember anything from your past? Family, friends?"  
"How could I?" Redstorm growled. "What do you know about me that's so special?"  
The small tortoiseshell smiled sadly at him. "Many years ago, Redstorm, the greatest warrior to ever roam Black Forest was the leader of Scar Pack. His pelt was as soft as snow, the colour of oak, with lovers all over the woods. Pinefall was the Scar Pack leader once, and the most bloodthirsty killers of the forest feared him. He could be terrible in a battle and he had never lost a fight before in his life. One day he met a young wolf, a tortoiseshell, roaming through the woods. At first he accused her of stealing prey, but they talked it over and he let her live in his pack. The more he saw her, the more he impressed her, and he knew that it was love. He brought her to Scar Pack, and they had a pup, and do you know who that wolf turned out to be?"  
Redstorm twisted his claws into the dirt as he imagined her answer, a mix of fury and sorrow clustered together in the haze of grey. Redstorm tipped his head, anticipating the answer carefully. It can't be true…  
"Your kin has been closer to you than even you have known," Dottedfur wailed. "I am your mother, Redstorm. And I was once Scar Pack's medicine wolf."  
"But that can't be true," Redstorm protested. "Medicine wolves have never had pups before. Two Star's law forbids it. You're lying."  
"Now they can," Dottedfur sighed. "The Law has been rewritten, and it goes without saying that we resemble each other a little. Now that you are a full warrior, we must…"  
"I look nothing like you," Redstorm hissed. "Your pelt is tortoiseshell. Mine is reddish-brown, like a fox's…"  
"Like your father's," Dottedfur snapped. "You have a brilliant past, Redstorm. The blood of powerful warriors like Pinefall, and a healer as your mother. All you have to do is accept it, and you will be free of every lie a wolf has ever told you."  
"But I don't feel like a powerful warrior," he argued. "What if I don't want to be deputy, or leader, for that matter?"  
"You must, if the Packs are to survive," Dottedfur snarled. "You are the most selfish wolf I have ever met, aside from Pinefall. As soon as I met him I knew he found it hard to admit he was wrong."  
That shut Redstorm up. "But Dottedfur…"  
"I know how it feels to be lost," the tortoiseshell answered. "But believe me when I say this: Hal marked out your destiny before you were born."  
"The cat?" Redstorm echoed. "What has he got to do with it?"  
"You have a very unique gift, Redstorm. Hal was the sole part of Two Stars. He created the forest, the clans, everything. He even made the wolves that shaped the Packs. Thornshadow, Fireclaw, Scarfall and Frostbird. Where did you think the greatness came from? They shaped what you call your clan. They are the reason for your life."  
Redstorm paused. "And they created everything in the forest?"  
"Not exactly everything," Dottedfur mused. "The river of Thorn Pack was created by a storm many, many years ago, when wolf first put paw beside the marsh. And Hal's heart belonged to the wolves back then. Now he chooses the life of a carefree human barn."  
"And the humans forgot all this?"  
"You have to remember that they are a very delicate species," Dottedfur said. "They don't view things the way we do, yet they rule every animal, plant and object in the world. They balance everything and everyone in our land. In other words, they can be viewed as our allies, of a sort."  
She paused before continuing. "Remember that any other wolf can rip the humans apart if they ever set foot in the woods. Luckily they only choose to live further from the borders that mark the Black Forest. If they found a way to corrupt that…"  
"I know this, Dottedfur. Brackenclaw told me it was true."  
His mother smiled at him before turning tail and leaving him in the swirling mists of Two Stars. The power was his. He was a true warrior of Scar Pack now. 


	9. Chapter 9

8:

"Let all warriors old enough to swim gather together under the Fallen Willow for a Pack meeting!" Brackenclaw hissed.  
Redstorm watched as Dapplewhisker limped out into the clearing with the other wolves. His pads were cracked and his muzzle battered with scars from earlier battles – Redstorm found it hard to imagine the gray warrior a leader of Scar Pack. As soon as every warrior had padded up the silver rise, Brackenclaw leaped atop the broken tree in a single bound and addressed his audience from above.  
With his warriors peering up at him, Brackenclaw flexed his claws in anxiousness, sending crumbs of rock tumbling down from his place on Fallen Willow.  
"My clan," the ginger leader explained, "due to Dapplewhisker's ill-fated leadership, he has retired from the role as deputy and is moving back to the warrior's den."  
A shocked silence met his announcement and Redstorm could see Shredpelt gaze up at the Fallen Willow with a burning desire raging in his amber eyes.  
"But all is not lost," Brackenclaw added. "I haven't forgotten that one warrior who deserves this role more than any wolf I know. In these dark times we need his courage and loyalty even more than ever. That is why Redstorm will be the new deputy of Scar Pack." He paused, and then beckoned the fox-red wolf forward. He cleared the trunk in a single bound, and paced it carefully, checking for signs of weakness.  
"When it comes to bravery, Redstorm is the best choice for our survival," Brackenclaw explained. "He is judged not by his actions, but by his heart. He will make a powerful leader someday – serve him as you do with me, and we will continue from here."  
Redstorm glowed with pride. "My pack," he addressed the sea of warriors below him. "I never expected to gain such a powerful role, but I will serve you with pride. Let us all rule as one in friendship and peace."  
Yowls and caterwauls rose up from the Wolf Court below, the loudest cheers coming from Redstorm's mate, Wintertail, and his newborn pups, Iceclaw and Mottlefur. Redstorm skidded down the willow, narrowly missing his grip on the soft hearth. He prowled around the chamber, his eyes full of pride, as he accepted tokens of thanks and admiration with small nods and brisk replies. He seemed to be enjoying it, Redstorm knew, because he even accepted Shredpelt's company.  
The black-and-gray wolf stalked toward him carefully. Hatred leeched out of his fur, and his teeth were bared with aggravation. "Remember what I said last winter, fox mutt. If I find you a threat I can wipe you out."  
"Really?" the fox-red deputy retorted. "Go bother a wolf that cares. You could try Brackenclaw. I would never betray my clan, and he and I both know it."  
"Wait until the war, then," Shredpelt replied icily. "And if you think you are superior to me, you're mistaken. I would never stoop as low as you to betray our secrets to Iceshadow or Birchfang."  
"Oh, yes?" Smokeflame hissed to her mate. "Then why does Birchfang credit you with the war's upcoming? He did specifically point you out."  
"How do you know this?" Shredpelt demanded. "Are you training in the Blood Realm as well as this foolish human toy?"  
"She would never do that," Brackenclaw hissed. "Smokeflame and Redstorm are both doing a favour to their clan. No one is betraying Scar Pack while I am leader."  
Growling heavily, Brackenclaw paced the dais, sweeping away the dust with his tail. Baring his teeth, he snarled in defiance.  
"How will they not?" Shredpelt growled. "This is not Scar Pack! Not anymore. We are being lead by Redstorm, that foolish fox from the human village, and a crippled dog who is too arrogant to step down from his role as leader. If this were a better pack…"  
"Scar Pack is the best clan there is," Brackenclaw snapped. "Your power is limited while you are a warrior – why can't you just accept the only responsibility you have?"  
"What?" Shredpelt hissed mockingly. "To be the best warrior I can be? Is that all you think of me? You're wrong, Brackenclaw. I have the power to shape this whole clan. And someday I will prove it to all of Black Forest."  
"Of course you will," the dark ginger warrior growled. "And that is why we have to kill you, or drive you out to live your life as a lowly dog."  
"The human village?" Shredpelt yowled. "Never! I won't ever leave the land. And even if you could stop me, Brackenclaw, you wouldn't make it across the river. Your weak mutts can't swim across water."  
"And you can?" Redstorm spat. "Like you're a better warrior than any of us."  
"Of course I can," the black-and-gray wolf hissed. "And I am a perfect warrior – cold and ruthless. I lead by example to anyone wishing for a taste of power."  
"Power is limited," Brackenclaw sneered. "True strength is developed through kindness and compassion. What compassion have you ever shown?"  
"Compassion?" Shredpelt snarled. "I don't need it. No true wolf ever does. I suggest no warrior will fight unless I say."  
"You aren't the deputy," Frostclaw yowled. "Why should you make the commands?"  
"I will be," Shredpelt muttered. "With or without you, Frostclaw, I will be." Turning to Brackenclaw, he added, "I don't need the rank. I lead Scar Pack now. Whoever doesn't accept my leadership will suffer a painful death at Iceshadow's claws."  
"No!" Redstorm burst out. "We can't let you."  
"We will all be overrun anyway," Waterfur remarked to Wintertail. "I say we stay and let Shredpelt take command of the Pack." The gray she-wolf nodded in agreement.  
Gasps and cries of disagreement passed through the crowd like wildfire. Redstorm looked uneasy, while Brackenclaw's face was a mask of cold fury.  
"Brackenclaw has made the wrong call," Shredpelt hissed. "Your debts must be paid, old fool. I suggest you step down now, and let me take your place."  
"I will step down, Shredpelt. When someone else has taken my place."  
"How dare you!" Shredpelt screeched. Turning to his followers he added silkily, "Are you sure you want to fight me now, you old ginger fool? While I'm in control, I own the forest. There isn't a thing you can do to stop me."  
"With two lieutenants you won't get far," Redstorm snarled. "What army to you own?"  
Smiling ruefully, Shredpelt gestured toward the large cluster of wolves that were padding up the dirt-covered rise. Tens of thousands of warriors were slowly slinking up to the base of the Fallen Willow, with the largest wolf in the centre of them…  
Snowy-white with large black claws and the sharpest teeth Redstorm ever saw.  
Iceshadow.  
"Well?" the black-and-gray killer demanded in a rich tone. "Are you sure you want to stand and fight this army?"

Redstorm gasped in terror as more and more warriors broke the enemy lines. Rippleflame bore her teeth in satisfaction as she ran with her army, pelts snagging on broken branches and paws thrumming on the ground.  
"The time has come to surrender," Iceshadow hissed. "It's over, Brackenclaw."  
"It's not over unless I say!" the great ginger warrior snarled.  
"A smarter wolf would take his chance and flee," Shredpelt sneered. "Too bad you won't get that choice. You will all be dead in the next minute or two."  
Iceshadow bowed her head at the black-and-gray wolf. He padded up to join her, and the two touched muzzles in acceptance to the Blood Realm.  
"Any respect I had of you is gone," Redstorm hissed to the white she-wolf. "I wanted to trust you, and…"  
"Trust her?" Brackenclaw echoed. "Why?"  
Redstorm winced, and Iceshadow let out a cruel wave of laughter that sounded like a cat hissing. Redstorm gaped at his leader, cringing in frustration.  
"He let me know that you were planning the war, old fool," the white wolf hissed. "And in return, I made him powerful enough to destroy entire armies."  
"And how did you do this?" the ginger leader demanded, rounding on the Silver Wolf.  
Flexing her claws, the white warrior growled, "I gave him my secret name! I had the power to kill him if he betrayed me, and he did! He never showed again! Birchfang warned me of his disloyalties, but I trusted him. I was wrong to ever help a Pack wolf."  
"And look were it got us," Smokeflame hissed, rounding on her deputy. "Shredpelt was right. Brackenclaw, take back your privileges to Redstorm. He doesn't deserve this role."  
"He doesn't," Brackenclaw growled. "I know that, but I also know that it cannot be done until the deputy retires, is killed in a fight, or possesses ill-tempered leadership."  
"Then let's go with the second choice," Shredpelt screeched. "I'll kill him and leave him for the crows to finish off!"  
"You'll have to slow me down first, Shredpelt." Redstorm's growl let loose in his throat as he imagined the bloodstained battlefield. He was certain that he was going to die, but it was worth it to save the Black Forest. Brackenclaw felt the same. Redstorm could taste the energy leeching from his ragged ginger pelt.  
"It would be my pleasure," the black-and-gray wolf hissed.  
"Do that on my authority," the Silver Wolf growled. "I will think about the cost of our battle. There will be no fight today."  
"No," Shredpelt sneered. "What are you doing? Attack now, before I lose my temper!"  
"My wolves are not yours to command," hissed Iceshadow. "They take orders from me, and nobody else. Retreat, Blood Realm! Back to the training grounds."  
Whipping out his claws Shredpelt stalked towards Iceshadow, his ears flattened against his head. "What did you just say, apprentice?" He lunged for her, his paws outstretched.  
Watching in horror, Brackenclaw knew this fight would get ugly really fast – Iceshadow leaped to her right, narrowly missing a fatal hit as she landed. Shredpelt scrabbled to his paws to find Iceshadow balanced on her hind legs; her front paws dangling toward him for the lethal blow. She struck the side of his face with both, and then used her front claws to rake down his belly, her tail lashing in anger.  
Screams ripped out of Shredpelt as he went down, paws thrashing as he wailed his hate. His blazing amber eyes threatened death, but soon after changed to anger, then horror and finally terror. His claws were ripping up dirt and grass in his struggle to live, his shattered remains pouring out of him too fast. Not even Two Stars were there to help this wolf as he lay there, almost gone forever…  
Then his body gave one last shattered convulse, and he was dead.  
Iceshadow glared at the cold body of her follower, claws flexed in the frosty dirt. "I will think about another day for this fight," she hissed to Redstorm. "You will see my clan at the far Northern Territory to tell me if you wish to leave – or face my Pack in battle. We await your approval on the final day of spring." Nodding to her warriors, she turned and padded back over along the rise, their bodies fading as they stalked back to Blood Realm. 


	10. Chapter 10

9:

Redstorm felt nothing but grief over Shredpelt's murder. Strange, how the powerful warrior that was once his oldest and most feared enemy was now reduced to a bleeding and broken body splayed on the ground.  
Redstorm looked over to see Smokeflame hanging her head, with many of her allies whispering words of comfort in her ears. The ginger deputy padded over to her, calling out her name, when she lashed out at him. He staggered back, aware that his muzzle was on fire, blood trickling down from his snout.  
"How dare you!" the brown she-wolf screeched. Lunging for him again, she tackled her deputy, sending him crashing into the side of the Fallen Willow. "It's your fault!"  
Redstorm leaped back into the fray. "What did you say?" he yelped.  
"You ginger fool!" Smokeflame growled. "My mate was taken because of you. How could you live with yourself right now? Tell me that, you piece of treacherous fox dung!"  
"It was his own fault that he died, Smokeflame. He chose death and destruction in order to get power. It wasn't my fault at all if he…"  
Smokeflame cuffed him in the head. "And think of his poor pups! Needlefur and Raggedclaw are without a father because of you." Turning to Brackenclaw, she added harshly, "Drive him out now to scavenge among humans for all I care. I never want to see him again. Do it now, or kill him, and be done with it!"  
Brackenclaw held his ground as he swung his head to meet Smokeflame's burning amber gaze. "It is against my council's oath to Two Stars," he sneered. "They won't allow the death of a deputy as soon as he is christened to the Wolf Court."  
"So be it," the mottled brown she-wolf hissed. "If you won't kill him, I will."  
Unsheathing his claws, Brackenclaw moved to stand in front of his deputy. "No," he growled. "It is against my authority."  
"To who?" Smokeflame sobbed. "Two Stars? I never thought you'd be so heartless…"  
Lashing her tail, the mottled she-wolf stalked back toward her leader, claws unsheathed and her teeth bared. "You can start his first act as deputy" – she hissed the word "deputy" with scorn at Redstorm – "and have him hunt around the Adder Valley."  
"Adder Valley?" Brackenclaw yelped. "But no one except Frost Pack hunts there! The gorge is too steep for a Scar Pack warrior to run across it. And there are foxes…"  
"Then our deputy should get along well with them," Smokeflame crowed. "Maybe he could even show you the best spots to kill innocent warriors like my mate!" Hissing, she reared up and slammed Redstorm into the den wall. Staggering back, the fox-coloured wolf tripped over a vine in his effort to get up.  
"Let Brackenclaw see the kind of fox dog he has trusted!" Waterfur growled, jumping to Smokeflame's side. "A murderer that will stop at nothing to get power."  
"Kill him!"  
"Break the fox!"  
"Drive him out of Black Forest!"  
"No, my friends," Smokeflame hissed. "We cannot subject ourselves to rely on weak leaders to help us through these awful times. Redstorm has hurt me for the last time – and now he has corrupted Iceshadow. We must do battle with the other clans; show them that we are superior, when the next moon rises."  
"Not at the next gathering," Frostclaw rumbled. "What if Two Stars break the truce?"  
"Truce?" Smokeflame growled. "Fine. Not at the next full moon, then. When we do invade, it will be at a sensible time. But first we must concentrate on further matters."  
She turned to face Brackenclaw. "Do you promise to uphold the warrior Law, and live by it for the rest of your life, no matter what the cost?"  
"I do," the dark ginger leader hissed. "But not by your merits."  
"Let your warriors be led with that mutt and corrupt our ancestor's power over us!"  
"I would never do that to my Pack!"  
"Then make Redstorm a rogue, and nothing else!" Waterfur snarled. "You have let him kill one of the greatest warriors in the forest, and look what has happened now!"  
"Iceshadow is expecting a fight," Frostclaw hissed. "Well, I say she should get a sacrifice first. Send our deputy into the Blood Realm to die."  
"Never," Brackenclaw spat. "Put one paw on him and I'll shred you."  
"I'd like to see you try, forest dog," Frostclaw retorted.  
"Brackenclaw." Redstorm shakily got to his paws. "We're wasting time. Let me go."  
"Ha!" Smokeflame crowed. "Do you see? Admit it, Redstorm. You killed Shredpelt. Tell our leader that, and we will send you to Adder Valley with a pure heart."  
"I don't admit to anything," Redstorm snarled. "You can't make me."  
"Then you will die with a weak, black heart," Frostclaw barked aggressively.  
"So be it," Redstorm growled. Stepping forward onto the rock face, he let his pelt bristle with anger. "If you want me gone, you will have to fight me for it. I will not let you drive me away over a crime I did not commit."  
"As you wish," Smokeflame hissed. "Frostclaw, Waterfur, forward. Attack."  
Leaping away from the broken-hearted she-warrior, Waterfur rushed forward to sink his claws into Redstorm's scruff. Whitecloud leaped to the bracken-coloured deputy's defence, batting away Waterfur with a sharp kick to the muzzle. The blue-gray wolf went sprawling, and he crashed into the nursery behind him.  
Hissing, Waterfur bounded out of the ferns and dived for the young medicine wolf. His paws wrapped around her backbone, he squeezed until she was gasping for breath – he let go, and the pretty tortoiseshell dropped like a stone beside the rose patch. Redstorm rushed forward to protect her, as Frostclaw crouched low to deliver a powerful launch. Springing forward, the brilliant warrior lunged with her claws extended, ready to give Redstorm the death blow…and then the young deputy rolled away from the attack, tucking Whitecloud carefully behind him, and then rose to meet Frostclaw and Waterfur, demanding a challenge.  
"I won't say I killed your mate," Redstorm hissed to Smokeflame. "If you truly believe that following that tyrant Iceshadow, then I will fight until my last breath to protect the Black Forest, warriors and all. Do you think Shredpelt would have done that?"  
Growling, the dark brown she-wolf bore her teeth angrily. "Of course he would have," she hissed, but there was uncertainty in her rusty bark. "He fought for what he believed was best for other wolves. How dare you try and keep that responsibility for yourself?"  
"If you wish to die like our father then that's your fault," Needlefur piped up. Her thick brown pelt was draped over her at the neck, framing her face like a lion's mane. She never kept her glistening green eyes off her mother, the piercing glare that melted her deputy.  
"How could you take Whitecloud's life like that?" Raggedclaw screeched. "She is in the hands of Two Stars because of Waterfur! What did she do to deserve that?"  
"She hasn't died," Frostclaw growled. "At least not yet, anyway. If Smokeflame wishes her dead then we will drive her to Two Stars at gunpoint if necessary."  
Snarling, Waterfur shook the dust from his pelt. "I know you hated Shredpelt," the gray warrior hissed. "But he would have made this pack. If this fool" – Waterfur cast a dirty look at Redstorm – "hadn't killed him in cold blood, we would be safe from Iceshadow."  
"Do you really believe what you're saying, Waterfur?" Raggedclaw growled. "Our father was a monster. It isn't Redstorm's fault that he died."  
"Smokeflame just needed to grieve," Brackenclaw added harshly. "And now that we've gotten that out of the way, I need to make certain that Whitecloud is alright." He glared at Waterfur with a snarl before gently touching noses with his fallen medicine wolf.  
Breathing heavily, the young tortoiseshell leaped to her paws. Rubbing muzzles with her leader she cast a dirty glare at Waterfur.  
"Its okay, Whitecloud," Redstorm reassured her. "They just forgot their place."  
With a snarl, Frostclaw bore her teeth in defiance. "We wouldn't ever forget it," the white warrior growled. "I'll teach you to mind yours! You'll be left for the crows when I'm finished with a piece of fox scrap like you!"  
"No, Frostclaw." Smokeflame weaved in between the two, claws unsheathed. "Let the fox mutt get his lesson from me. After all, I'll be avenging Shredpelt."  
"No!" Leaping to his defence, Waterfur raced up to face Smokeflame. "Leave him be."  
Smokeflame glared at Waterfur. "How dare you say that?" she screeched. "Shredpelt would never have wanted this!"  
"Yes, he would have," Waterfur snarled. "Don't you see? It was by the law of Two Stars that he was to die now. It was not Redstorm's fault at all."  
"Fine." Frostclaw growled at Waterfur, unsheathing her claws. "I'll take you down myself, you mangy old…"  
"Stop!" Brackenclaw hissed. Every warrior in the clearing fell silent. "We're wasting the Pack meeting. We must settle this as one agreement. For now, I will reserve my judgement. We'll see if Shredpelt really deserved his title as a warrior."  
He gave Smokeflame and Frostclaw a long sidelong look before motioning for Redstorm to enter the leader's den. Turning tail, the massive ginger leader stalked away into the clearing, Redstorm trotting after him.

"Redstorm, I am lost." Brackenclaw sighed and with a weary grunt, flopped down near the clump of nettles behind the entrance of his den. "Smokeflame is one of her allies."  
"She might not be Iceshadow's heir," Redstorm said firmly. "As for Amberdawn…"  
"I am sorry for the trouble I have put you through. As my deputy, you are expected to carry some of the most dangerous tasks in the forest."  
"You have already trusted me with one of them," the reddish brown deputy answered.  
Brackenclaw gave a weak smile. "Yes, I know. Spying on Iceshadow's lieutenants while I resumed the safety of my warrior council was not an easy task for a warrior."  
Redstorm nodded. "I'll admit it wasn't pleasant."  
Brackenclaw's muzzle was a mask of bitterness now. "Yes, well, the wolf council is very…protective of their laws to the Wolf Court. They disagreed with my request that I told you about last winter. And they have confirmed something terrible, Redstorm."  
"What is it?" the red warrior whispered, his voice quiet.  
Brackenclaw sucked in a mouthful of air, his gaze reflecting the pain he felt. "It's not easy to say this…" The ginger leader sighed and paced the mouth of the den, his bushy tail flickering angrily. "Redstorm, something horrible has happened. Iceshadow has taken all the power my council had, and Frostpelt…"  
"What about him?" Redstorm hissed, and his voice edged with brittle surprise.  
"Frostpelt is dead." 


	11. Chapter 11

10:

A bitter feeling welled up in Redstorm's chest and he fought for air, tail thrashing as he raced toward the bracken. He had to find her, to talk to her, and confirm if it was true…  
There, between the ferns.  
Her tiger-striped pelt was windblown, sticking out in all directions, and her yellow eyes narrowed when she saw him approach.  
"Well, Tigerfur, it's been a while." The reddish brown wolf sat next to her warily, paws shaking with fear at the thought of meeting with Thorn Pack's leader to discuss the topic. "I know," Tigerfur answered plainly. "I've missed seeing you, Redstorm."  
Redstorm nodded and with a simple gesture, touched her pelt with his.  
Tigerfur broke off the touch and sniffed the air. "I smell Flamestripe. Let's go."  
The two wolves padded out of the bracken; the Scar Pack deputy felt himself freeze. A long dark river wrapped itself between the training ground and the warrior dens.  
"You're not scared are you?" Tigerfur hissed.  
"You can swim!" Redstorm snarled. "I can't."  
"Come on! It's just like running underwater, anyway," the tiger-striped wolf sneered.  
Dipping one paw in the water, Redstorm winced. The current was stronger than he had expected, and with Tigerfur impatiently waiting he knew he would have to take the risk.  
He darted forward, into the icy stream, and nearly barked with fear. He forced himself to wade through the current, knowing full well that this could be his last move.  
Tigerfur was just clawing at the swirling pit of blue death with ease, rolling her eyes at Redstorm before helping him make it to the shallow tide.  
"Didn't they teach you to swim in Scar Pack?" she snarled.  
"No!" Redstorm hissed defensively. "I told you, we don't have streams as big as this."  
"No surprises there," Tigerfur sneered. "Come on, Flamestripe's waiting for us."  
The two warriors leapt across the rise with ease and shook the dust from their pelts. A dark flame-coloured wolf waited for them near the salt lake.  
"Flamestripe," Tigerfur acknowledged the dark ginger warrior. Redstorm stared with surprise, wondering why Tigerfur was acting so respectful of Flamestripe.  
The ginger wolf nodded at Redstorm. "So, he's the one then?"  
"Yes, Flamestripe. He's come to talk to you about Frostpelt's death."  
Baring his teeth, Flamestripe looked Redstorm up and down. "Featherstone told me all about you and Brackenclaw," he snarled. "So, you can never be beaten in battle, eh? Ripplepelt told me he'd taken you on single-pawed."  
"Not all of us," Redstorm sneered. "He would have been slaughtered."  
"How dare you speak to Flamestripe that way?" Tigerfur spat. "Don't you know who he is, you ginger fool?"  
"He's just a warrior," Redstorm protested.  
"Was just a warrior," Flamestripe hissed. "I'm the new leader of Thorn Pack."  
"How can you be?" Redstorm gasped. "Featherstone isn't…"  
"She died soon after the clan meeting," Tigerfur explained solemnly. "I think it was the witness of Dashpelt's murder that pushed her over the edge. She seemed stressed."  
"And what about Blazingclaw?" Redstorm asked, more to Flamestripe than Tigerfur. "He was the Thorn Pack deputy. He succeeded Featherstone, remember?"  
"I know," Flamestripe agreed. "But he was driven from Thorn Pack for many crimes against his birthplace."  
"Why?"  
"He died as he lived, Redstorm. His answer for every problem was to take more territory for himself, or try to bring the Packs together so he could rule all the Forest."  
"I see." Redstorm knit his brow together in understanding. "And you were declared the leader of Thorn Pack?"  
"Yes, I was. I did not expect to gain such a high rank."  
Redstorm nodded. "How could this happen?"  
"Two Stars is angry with us for breaking the warrior law," Tigerfur explained. "With Blazingclaw driven out, we have finally been able to fix things since Featherstone died."  
"I understand," Redstorm said simply. "And Frostpelt? Do you know how he died?"  
"He was taken as prisoner in the Blood Realm," Flamestripe answered. "I guess you could say he was once a member of such a bloodthirsty clan."  
"A member of Blood Realm?" Tigerfur hissed. "How could he? He was meant to…"  
"I know what he was meant to do, Tigerfur," Flamestripe snarled. Turning to Redstorm, he added, "Frostpelt was taken; he believed that recruiting wolves from the Blood Realm would give the Black Forest more protection."  
"But it didn't work?" Redstorm guessed.  
Flamestripe cracked a grim smile. "Yes, it worked, but not all of Iceshadow's spies fell victim to Frostpelt's clever tricks. You see, he lured them in by spreading lies about her, and some of the Blood Realm warriors believed him…"  
"Surely that's a good thing?" Redstorm replied. "If they believed him…"  
"It had a cost," Flamestripe answered icily. "And for Frostpelt to deceive Iceshadow's army like that, well, they found out."  
"And that was how…" Redstorm growled.  
"Yes," Tigerfur interrupted. "But they didn't kill him quickly. No, nothing as merciful as that. They decided to show Frostpelt's death to Brackenclaw, have him kill Frostpelt for them instead. I suspect Iceshadow found it rather amusing…"  
"Doubt Brackenclaw got that far," Flamestripe growled. "Frostpelt wasn't important enough to be murdered by Iceshadow in person."  
"No, I know he wasn't," Tigerfur sneered. "Guess Brackenclaw put on a good show."  
"He wouldn't kill Frostpelt," Redstorm snarled. "Brackenclaw is too strong for that."  
"It was either Frostpelt's life or his," Flamestripe snapped. "Which one do you think he would have chosen?"  
Tigerfur stepped in between the two wolves, claws unsheathed. "Be careful, Flamestripe. This may be too hard on him."  
"I'm not a pup anymore," Redstorm hissed. "If you think I can't handle this, you're…"  
"Wrong?" the Thorn Pack leader snarled. "When have Thorn Pack wolves ever been wrong? You can see it, Redstorm; the forest has been taken from its rightful place, and you are the only one who can prevent it."  
"How?" Redstorm growled. "I'm not a leader."  
"You're the deputy of one of the greatest Packs in the Forest," Tigerfur sneered. "It's time you acted like it! Do you think your clan is safe from the Blood Realm's plans to finding the…"  
"Finding the what?" Redstorm hissed. "What do you know about them?"  
Flamestripe snorted. "Less than you, I'm sure." He shifted his paws nervously, his long claws scraping the surface of rock uneasily.  
"Fine," Redstorm snarled. "I'll find it out on my own."  
And with that he turned tail and stalked back into the undergrowth.

Brackenclaw was lying on top of the dusty slab of rock near the lake when Redstorm found him. The old leader flicked his tail impatiently, sending shafts of rock tipping over the sides of the giant stone.  
"I need to speak with you," Redstorm said firmly.  
Brackenclaw's eyes widened. "I thought this would come," he sighed. He jumped down from the ledge and padded, without a word to Redstorm, into the dim-lit leader's den.  
"What do you want?" Brackenclaw asked, not unkindly.  
"Frostpelt," Redstorm said simply. "I want to know the truth about his death."  
Brackenclaw slid to the ground, sighing heavily. "It's time I told you everything, Redstorm. Please sit. I am going to tell you the entire story."  
He drew a sharp gulp of air and then began. "Frostpelt was interested in getting more followers to protect the Forest from the war. I explained the dangers of recruiting more wolves for protection; but he insisted, even after I told him to wait. The night he disappeared from Scar Pack in search of warriors I was informed of his capture. He had gotten cocky in his journey, and as such had been taken by Iceshadow."  
"He had tried to get warriors from Blood Realm to protect us," Redstorm whispered.  
Brackenclaw nodded. "He thought he'd be smart by weakening them. It was a clever plan, but it was very pricey. I was forced to slip into the Blood Realm – I planned to rescue Frostpelt, but Iceshadow got there first. She told me I was just in time for the night's entertainment. Frostpelt was weak when I reached him, and I was forced to finish him off…" He shuddered, and closed his eyes tight. Redstorm knew he was trying to shut the memory out of his mind.  
When he opened his eyes again, Redstorm filled with wonder at his leader. He looked strong, healthier than he looked the day before. "Redstorm, I was forced to kill him…the death was planned between us, long before Two Stars informed us of this battle."  
"There can't be a fight," Redstorm hissed. "You know as well as I do that the Forest will be taken if there is."  
"I know…" Brackenclaw trailed off, and Redstorm looked up at Brackenclaw, and was surprised to find a tear tricking down his cheek. Brackenclaw swished his long tail, and Redstorm was asked to leave.

Redstorm paused outside the Wolf Court, deep in thought. Brackenclaw had killed Frostpelt in front of Iceshadow…surely there was some mistake? His leader would never kill anyone from his own pack, especially one so kind and loyal. He shuffled his paws nervously, wanting so badly to tear his claws into the leader's den and destroy it.  
"Did you see him?" Frostclaw hissed to Waterfur suddenly. Redstorm quickly detected the sound of the low growl and flattened his belly to spy on them.  
Unnoticed between the brambles, Redstorm hesitated to eavesdrop; they were his Pack mates, after all. But hadn't they also accused him of disloyalty? Redstorm decided it would be worth it, to learn what they were saying about him.  
"Do you think Redstorm should be second in command?" Waterfur asked.  
"I think he ought not to try," Frostclaw sniffed.  
"And who do you think Redstorm will choose to be his deputy, assuming Brackenclaw dies sooner than we expect?"  
"Oh, another young wolf that is not up to the job," Frostclaw answered. "That I know."  
"Yes, I quite agree," Waterfur murmured. "Something tells me Redstorm is a traitor."  
Frostclaw nodded. "It is better we get some new blood quickly," she replied. "The sooner we allow for Redstorm to corrupt this clan, the worse it will be for us in the war."  
"I think poison will do the trick," Waterfur said briskly. "We can blame it on bad fish."  
"And no one would suspect us," Frostclaw praised. "We would be avenging Shredpelt ourselves. I always loved him, you know, brilliant in battle…"  
"Stop wasting your time thinking about that," Waterfur snarled. "We have a job to do, and the sooner we kill Redstorm the better it will be for the whole clan!"  
Redstorm shivered, gulping for air, yet he knew what had to be done. If Shredpelt's supporters were ready and willing to kill him, then he, Redstorm, would rise to die for the sake of his very pack's existence.


End file.
